STO: The Fizzgig Files
by The Flasherman
Summary: An ST:O fic brought to you by The Flasherman.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Smoke filled the air. Smoke, mingled in with the smell of blood, and death. Ensign Jason Whyrens spluttered it back out, desperately trying to breathe, as he glared at the grey and green shape on the monitor that was causing his co-workers, his friends, to die around him.

The grey and green cube.

Whyrens had heard stories about the Borg, seen the data recordings of their first encounter with the Federation, when the USS Enterprise was blasted into system J-25, nearly four and a half decades earlier. Had read with horror about how they had upgraded themselves with nanotubing to make assimilation easier and more efficient…but never encountered them. Always counted himself lucky to be one of the many who'd never gone up against a Drone, let alone a group of them. '_Now_,' he mused to himself, '_I'm not so lucky_.' His eyes flickered down and stared through the smoke, watching a report on his chair console. '_Not mine_.' He chided himself. '_Captain Qat'Anmek's chair_.' Whyrens shook his head. To lose his captain to a Borg assault, whilst he himself was assisting on the USS Khitomer, was one thing. But the entire command staff, _plus_ any officers with any command training? That was almost impossible. Almost being the operative word. An Ensign, barely out of the Academy, Whyrens was doing all he could to protect the men and women who had found themselves under his care. Older men and women, with more experience on ships. None had complained or questioned his step up to command, but Whyrens was praying that, if they survived, an older, higher ranking officer would step in and take command of his…

An explosion rocked the bridge, shaking Whyrens out of his train of thought. Scowling, he looked back up at the monitor, at the cube, wracked with explosions but still capable of so much damage, and stood, vowing to himself that they wouldn't take his ship.

"You're not taking this ship!" He howled at the screen, and ran to the tactical console, moving the corpse of one of his shipmates to one side. "Never taking this ship." He muttered, catching the eye of his only surviving bridge member.  
"Sir?" The medical lieutenant looked uncertain. "We should get out of here. Just run." Whyrens looked up, and stared at her. "We can't run. The colony's still in danger, Lieutenant. Belay that thinking."  
"Acting Captain Whyrens, I can have you relieved from duty for medica…" Another explosion nearly knocked them both off their feet.  
"What? Okay, get Security to come and put me in leg irons, Lieutenant. Just wait until after I've destroyed the threat to the Colony, and the ship, and _**you**_!" He jabbed a panel with his fingers, and watched, with no small sense of satisfaction, as two red orbs shot from his ship and collided with the Borg Cube directly ahead. "C'mon, blow up you son of a…"

The screen went dark, as did the lights. Whyrens looked around frantically, wondering what could possibly happen now, when a voice spoke up. "Computer, end simulation."  
The bridge melted around Jason, and he found himself in a large grey room, with yellow squares on the floor and walls…'_A Holodeck_!' He mused, remembering where he actually was. This was Starfleet Academy, and this was his final exam - he must have undergone some form of light hypnosis to make himself forget it was only a simulation. He looked around more, sucking in clean air to disperse the smoke from his lungs, and found a single person standing with him - his instructor, Qat'Anmek.  
"Sir!" Whyrens saluted.  
Anmek waved the salute down. "Yes, yes, enough of that, Cadet. How do you think you performed on the Vega test?"  
Jason paused. "Inadequate, sir." His superior raised an eyebrow. "Explain?"  
Jason started to pace, something that his peers often found annoying, but helped him gather his thoughts. "I didn't save the crew of the ship. The Vega colony _was_ saved, but at tremendous cost. And the Borg Cube…"  
"The cube was destroyed." Anmek smiled. "Yes, you lost almost all hands on ship, but you destroyed the threat to the colonists, and the ship itself would be salvageable."  
"To Pakleds, maybe." Whyrens spat out, before he could stop himself.  
Anmek did nothing, gave no indication that he had heard Jason's' outburst, merely stood at attention for ten beats, before continuing. "Cadet, do you know why all students at the Academy are required to take the Vega test?"  
Jason shook his head. "No, sir. I know it replaced the old Kobayashi Maru after the seventh class were caught tampering with the files to cheat it. But I don't know why we all take this test."  
"We take it because no matter what division of the Fleet you're in, whether it's Tactical, Sciences, or Operations, everyone needs to learn the same thing. It's the mission that's important. Yes, getting your ship and crew out safely is important too, but it's a secondary priority. The main purpose is so people realise that the safety of a planet, or a solar system, or the galaxy, is more important than the lives of themselves and their team." Anmek shook his head. "I wish it were otherwise, I've seen good Officers die, and less than capable ones promoted in their stead. But we risk our lives so that others don't have to. Understood, Lieutenant?"  
Jason nodded before the words had fully sunk in, or their meaning. "Yes, sir, I…" He paused. "Lieutenant?"  
Anmek smiled. "Congratulations on passing the Vega test, and earning your commission, _and_ your temporary promotion as Brevet Captain. Your first posting is waiting for you, Lieutenant Whyrens, and it's up there."  
Jason couldn't believe his luck. It was true! Lower ranking officers really _were_ taking command of whole vessels. Ignoring the nagging thought that it was only because of the war against the Klingons that he was taking command, his mind started to race, considering the possibilities of ships. What was his first command going to be? Refit Constitution? Excalibur? Sovereign? Not a Defiant class…  
"Yes," Anmek continued. "You're being put in command of the Miranda class USS Fizzgig."

'Miranda_ class? Oh…Tribblefur_.'

{}

* * *

{}

"Captain on deck, sir!" The blond man smirked at Jason, performing a textbook military salute. "Captain Whyrens, sir, First Officer Samuel Edwards, sir, reporting for duty, sir, and wondering, sir, just wondering, sir, if the Captain feels like an idiot yet, sir?"

Jason glared at Ensign Edwards - Sammy - and looked around slowly, taking in the sights and sounds of Starbase One. His best friend for longer than either of them could remember, they joined the Academy at the same time, took some of the same lessons. Sammy went into Medical, whereas he joined the Tactical track, but they never drifted apart. _'Unfortunately.'_ Jason thought to himself, keeping his smile to himself. He looked over Sammy, and shook his head. "Do you call that a salute, Ensign?"  
Sammy started to lower his arm, and Jason glared at him. "Hold that salute, Officer." He  
waited until Sammy returned to his salute, and walked around him, slowly, examining his friend for anything he could find out of place.  
"Dude, my arm…"  
"Silence on deck, Ensign Edwards." Mike grinned broadly, unable to contain his humour, and was glad that he was behind Sammy at the time. "There'll be no talking back on my bridge, or I'll consider it mutiny. Mutiny, Mr Edwards, is not something you want to be charged with. Do I make myself clear?"  
"What?"  
"_Do I make myself clear?_"  
"**Sir, yes sir!**" Sammy bellowed.  
"Good. Now, hold that pose until I say otherwise." Sammy started to turn, to face him, but Jason shook his head. "Eyes forward, Mister!"  
When he was certain that Sammy was, indeed, facing front, Jason quietly moved away from him, and turned to some other cadets…former cadets…who were watching in amusement from their vantage point at the bar. Creeping over to them, he nodded to the barman, who was polishing a glass.  
"Roebuck Cola?"  
The barman nodded, and went to the replicator.  
One of the students, another Tactical track, by the look of him, nodded towards Sammy.  
"How long before he realises you're not there?"  
Jason shrugged, but before he could answer, he heard a shout from behind him. "Whyrens!" He chuckled, and turned around slowly. "Yes?"  
"You're a….a…"  
"A what?"  
"A git!"  
The combined group of students laughed, loudy, and even the bartender smiled slightly and shook his head. "Right, anyway," Sammy frowned, rubbing his sore shoulder. "What're we going to do, Oh Captain?"  
"Well," Jason pulled out a Padd, and consulted it briefly. "According to this, I have to go to see Admiral Quinn, and then meet with a Commander Sulu."  
"Winters."  
Jason looked at the cadet who'd spoken. "Pardon?"  
"Commander Winters."  
"What happened to Commander Sulu?"  
The cadet shrugged. "Promoted to Captain, finally, and shipped out to the Neutral Zone."  
"About damned time." One of the other cadets said, smiling. "Now perhaps we'll stop being bugged with people asking where Sulu is all the time."  
"People couldn't find him?" Jason glanced at Sammy, who returned his confused look. "He was Admiral Quinn's Aide-de-camp, wasn't he? So he'd be in the Admiral's office,"  
"You'd think so." This new cadet, a white haired Andorian, shrugged again easily. "Rumour has it that he was rarely at his post, so nobody could _ever_ find him." She leaned forwards conspiratorially, and beckoned the two graduates closer. "Gambling problem, I hear."  
"Sulu?" Sammy squeaked. "Ohh, myyy." He was about to say something else, when a tall, statuesque Redhead ran up to them. "Sorry, did I hear you say something about Sulu? I've been looking for him everywhere."  
Sammy, momentarily tongue-tied, merely gaped. Jason shook his head at his friend, and smiled towards the newcomer. "He's been transferred to the Neutral Zone. You want Commander Winters, in Admiral Quinn's office."  
The Redhead snorted. "Whatever, Noob." She ran off again, with Sammy staring after her. "Dude."  
"Yeah?"  
"Is it my imagination, or are there a_ lot_ of Redheads in Starfleet?"  
Jason looked around. Sure enough, one in every five female officers and cadets passing them by had red hair.  
"You know…I think you're right."

The Andorian chuckled to herself. "Well, kids, it's been fun, but I have to report to my posting before we ship out."  
"Aww, c'mon." Sammy almost pouted. "One drink. We just graduated, and I dragged Jay-Mac to this bar because it's the one place in this _sector_ that doesn't serve Synthethol."  
"Well…"

{}

* * *

{}

The night went on, the other cadets left over time as alcohol went down, and, my dear friends, our fine heroes found themselves in a state they had never before encountered. They had undergone rigorous training in diplomacy, in sleep deprivation, in withstanding Klingon torture techniques (although, as Sammy had reckoned, "listening to their Opera is bad enough!") and had, under strict medical care, taken various drugs and hallucinogens to learn how to combat the feelings these intoxicants left them with. However, none of this could compare with these young adults experiencing their first rush of freedom, of accomplishment…and hard grain alcohol.

"You know what?" Sammy gestured wildly towards Jason, spilling his drink in the process. "Thish man right here….riiiiight here…" Sammy stopped, and experimentally closed one eye. It made sense to him, after all, there were suddenly three of his best friend, and closing an eye made it easier to tell which one was real. "Thish man is my brother."  
"Thanksh…who are you?" Jason and Sammy stared at each other in silence for a second, then started roaring with laugher.  
"You two are insh….insh…" Corspa, the Andorian, frowned. "You're nutsh!" She beamed at the pair, quite happy that she was able to articulate her feelings appropriately.  
"Heeeey! Blue girl!" Sammy gestured again, losing more of his drink in the process. "Whatsh wrong with your shtalksh?"  
"My…what?"  
"Your shtalks, girl!" he held up his free hand, and made an antennae movement at the top of his head. Corspa grew pale, and reached for the top of her head.  
"Whatsh wrong with them?"  
"They're all droopy. Ain't they droopy, Jay?"  
Jason nodded solemnly. "Droopy."  
Corspa shrugged. "Musht be all the alcohol." She glanced at her chrono. "Aww, Tribblefur. I really have to get to my ship. We have to be on deck ready to depart at 22:00."  
"That shucks." Sammy shook his head sadly. "Well, blow up some Klinks for me, Corshpy."  
"That's Corshpa." Their new friend smiled, put her drink down, stood up, straightened her uniform, and promptly collapsed.  
Sammy watched all this happen, and did what, to him, was the most honourable, gentlemanly thing he could think of doing.

He laughed.

Jason slid off his stool, scooped an arm around Corspa, and helped get her back up. "C'mon, Soldier, on your feet."  
"Yesh Sir." Corspa smiled at him, then felt herself lean towards the other side. '_Clearly_', she mused to herself, '_The artificial gravity generators are malfunctioning. The chief engineer of this Base needs to be disciplined quite severely._' Then for no reason she could discern, she started giggling.  
"Oh, yeah." Sammy said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Big tough soldier giggles like a girl."  
"I _am_ a girl!" Corspa pouted. "I'm also an expert in Mok'bara, Tsunkatse..."  
"Gesundheit." Jason offered, getting a glare in return. "And Suus Mahna."  
"Never heard of it." Sammy shrugged.  
"It'sh not my fault if your education ish lacking." Corspa shot back. "What about aikido?"  
"Yesh." Sammy nodded.  
"Well, then!" Corspa nodded back, as if this explained everything. "Now, I have to get to my ship!"  
Jason let go, experimentally, and Corspa slowly, if surely, moved towards the nearest exit.  
"Dude, we have to get to the Fizzy one."  
"Yesh!" Sammy nodded, and stood up, very uncertainly. They helped each other out of the bar, waving to the bartender as they went. Finding the transporter chamber, they ran into a familiar figure, arguing with the Chief.  
"Corspa!" Sammy waved happily. "Why aren't you on your ship?"  
"I'unno." She murmured. "I gotta get on board my ship, Chief." She sulked. "I don't want to be on uniform replicator duty, it'd kill me!"  
The Chief, a surly, dark haired man, shrugged. "Not my problem, Ensign."  
Jason strode forwards, trying not to stumble, towards the Chief and the transporter console. Leaning against the console heavily, in an attempt to disguise his drunkenness, he gestured at his lapel.  
"Chief, what's my rank say?"  
"It says Lieu..." The Chief trailed off, noticing the Brevet Captain pin for the first time. Drawing smartly to attention, his face assumed a blank expression.  
"Captain, Sir!"  
"And will you beam Ensign Corspa to her ship?"  
"Sir, yes sir! Pulling up the relevant details now." The Chief suited actions to words, tapping furiously on his console. Jason nodded, and brought his two friends over to the transporter pad.  
"Good. Now, beam the Ensign to her ship, and myself and my Chief Medical Officer to ours."  
"Sir?"  
"Just do it, Chief!" Jason fought to keep the grin from his face. He was giving orders! He was a Captain!  
Sammy looked over at Corspa, and waved sadly.  
"See you around the Quadrant, Corshpy."  
"You too...Shammy." Corspa smiled at them both, and then all three were taken away by beams of light...

...Only to re-appear to each other a few seconds later.  
"What?" Jason glanced around. The Chief had obviously brought them back to the Starbase. He was about to speak, when another voice rang out, clear as crystal, and twice as cold.  
"Captain on deck!"  
With a whistle, the five men and women stood in front of the three Graduates snapped to attention. The woman who had spoken took a step forward. Jason instinctively did the same, and took the womans' proferred hand. "Captain Whyrens, sir. Ensign Edwards, Ensign Corspa. Welcome aboard the USS Fizzgig. I trust you didn't get too lost, and...what's that smell?"  
It was Corspa who found her voice first. "I...I just got drunk with...the Captain?"  
Jason heard a dull thud from behind him, and didn't really need to turn around to know that Corspa had taken the news rather badly.

{}

* * *

{}

All things considered, it didn't take too long for Jason to settle into a routine aboard the Fizzgig. His initial misgivings about the Miranda class aside, the Fizzgig was a solid, sturdy ship, brought out of inactive service for the war with the Klingon Empire. Being a Captain, albeit a Brevet one, ranked him not just spacious quarters, but a real water shower. As a Cadet, he had gotten used to the Sonic Showers, but nothing was quite as refreshing as being able to stand under a stream of hot, powerfully driven jets of water in the morning. '_There's just one thing wrong with this assignment_'. He mused to himself the day after he had arrived...

Corspa, passed out on the transporter pad, was lifted up and bodily carried away by two security officers.  
"I hope they're not too hard on her." Jason commented to Sammy.  
"They won't be." The woman who had greeted them said, smiling slightly. "As of 0900 tomorrow morning, she's their boss. New head of security."  
"Ah."  
"However," The woman continued. "You, on the other hand don't get to spend the night in a drunken stupor." She held out a hand to forestall any lies or excuses. "I know that smell, and I can't say I really approve…but you're the Captain, and I can understand the need to celebrate." She glanced behind Jason, and then continued, shaking her head. "Normally, I'd refer you to the Chief Medical Officer for something to help with that; unfortunately, the Chief Medical Officer is sitting in a heap behind you, singing ancient sea shanties."  
Jason glanced behind him. Sammy was, in fact, sitting in a heap behind him, singing quietly to himself.  
"So…what happens now?"  
The woman smirked. "Now, we show your CMO to his respective quarters, where he'll fall into a deep sleep, and wake up with a horrible headache. You, however, have a tour of the ship, Orientation, and crew records to go over with your First Officer."  
'_Wonderful_.' Jason thought to himself. '_At least I get away from __**her**__!_'  
She turned to leave, then looked back over her shoulder. "By the way…_I'm_ your first officer. Commander Katharine Hill."  
"Great."

The Miranda class, as Jason learned during his Orientation, was based on the old Anton class research cruiser. Just over 237 metres long and 141 metres wide, the 11 decks of the ship made for cramped living conditions, especially for Jason, who grew up in the countryside of England, and then the spacious Academy in San Francisco. Crewing 200 people in a ship that small seemed like an odd way to do things, but as Jason had heard one of his Academy instructors remark, "They really packed them in on those old ships."

And old it was. Despite attempts to refit the Miranda class to something more functional for the 25th Century, there were still issues, as was to be expected of a ship designed over 150 years ago. With a mere two forward weapons systems, and one rear, Jason felt slightly under-defended, in case he had to go into battle. Not just that, but because of system issues and power resources needed elsewhere, there were no replicators, no Holodeck, and no crew lounge. '_This is shaping up_,' Jason mused to himself, '_To be a very long tour._'

As Jason walked onto the bridge of the Fizzgig, his first day in command, all officers stopped and looked at him. '_They're all so much older than me_.' Jason thought to himself despairingly. '_How must_ I_ appear to them?_' He caught sight of three officers standing close together, looking at him expectantly. '_Well, at least not_ everybody's _older than me_.' He nodded to Sammy, Corspa, and Hill…his senior staff. 'Senior_ staff, what a joke. Sammy and Corspa are my age, and Hill's only a year older than I am. These adults aboard this ship are looking to children to lead._' His helmsman smiled slightly, catching Jasons' eye. The man had a twinkle in his eye, catching the solid black pupils and iris...  
'_Oh, crap_.' Jason thought to himself. '_You're a Betazoid, aren't you?_'  
The telepathic helmsman nodded slightly.  
'_And you heard all that, didn't you?_'  
Another nod.  
'_So much for internal monologuing_.' He took a breath, then looked around his bridge. "My name is Jason Whyrens. Effective from this Stardate, I hereby assume command of this vessel. XO, please make a note in the ships log."  
Hill tapped a button on her Padd. "So noted, sir."  
Jason nodded, and turning slowly, looked every member of his bridge crew in the eye. "Now, I know some of you may question my age. However, the Starfleet I work for is the same one you've worked for, depended on, and trusted, for all your careers. I wouldn't have been given this command if I wasn't capable. In time, you'll learn you can all come to depend on me...but I know that respect must be earned, and not given. So, I look forward to earning your trust." He sat down on his chair, relishing the feeling of it. For the first time, he truly felt in command.  
"Helmsman, set course 100, mark five. Docking thrusters at half until we clear Spacedock."  
The helmsman spun about. "Heading 100, mark five, aye sir."  
"XO, transmit intentions to depart from Spacedock, heading out into Sector Space as soon as we're clear to warp."  
Hill nodded once, and started walking towards the Communications console, typing in commands to her Padd. Jason turned to Sammy and Corspa. "Ensign Edwards, Ensign Corspa, to your posts please."  
They both nodded, and moved out of Jasons' eyeline, so he had an unobstructed view of the screen before him.  
Hill looked up. "Spacedock sends its' regards, Captain, and permission to enter warp when ready."  
"We are clear of Spacedock, and ready for warp, Captain, sir." The Helmsman chimed in.  
Jason allowed himself one tiny smile. "These are the voyages..." He muttered to himself. Standing up, he pointed towards the screen. "Warp one. Engage!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"_Captains log, Stardate 87724.7._  
_Having arrived at my new station aboard the USS Fizzgig and spending a very long night reviewing files, I have assumed command of the vessel, and am waiting for my First Officer to join me in my Ready Room. Whilst she should be here in a minute or two, I am also waiting for her to grow a sense of humour. This is something that may take much longer_."

"Did you really have to point at the screen?"  
Jason stared at Hill. "Commander, I got caught up in the moment." She stared back, unflinchingly. "I understand that, sir, but...really. Pointing at the viewscreen? Who even _does_ that?" Jason sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You have a point to make, Commander?" Hill put down her Padd, resting it gently on the Ready Room desk. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"  
'_Oh, this ought to be good'_. "Granted, Commander."  
She nodded. "You shouldn't be in charge of this vessel."  
"Excuse me?"  
"You're too young."  
Jason couldn't stop himself from letting out a bark of laughter. "Too young? Commander, I reviewed your file last night, remember? Instead of getting any sleep, I poured over the files of every senior member of staff in this crew, and you're only one year older than me."  
Hill nodded. "And because of the peculiarities of war, I'm a lower rank than you. It takes time and experience to become a Captain, _Lieutenant_. Just because you perform well on a Holodeck, it doesn't mean you're suited for command of a Starfleet vessel out here, in the real world." She gestured to the small Brevet Captain pin on his lapel, next to his rank insignia. "Another thing…all that trinket does is paint a target on you."  
"What do you mean?"  
She snorted. "The first time you go on an Away Mission, and get captured by Klingons, what will you do?"  
"I'd give them my name, my rank, and my serial number. SOP."  
"And what does the Standard Operating Procedure say your rank is?"  
"Captain."  
Hill smiled, as if she had won their argument with that admission. "So the Klingons get to kill a Captain. One experienced enough to take a ship into combat, and have the lives of 200 men and women under his care. Only…they won't be killing a Captain, will they? They'll be killing you, someone whose death won't damage the war effort as much as the Klingons may think."  
Jason flushed. "Are you suggesting, Commander, that Starfleet's putting lesser experienced Officers out in the field as…what? Decoys? To protect themselves?"  
Hill shook her head. "The Starfleet I know isn't that devious, or that manipulative. But, from a certain point of view, the case could be made that your death would protect someone else who could be more beneficial to us winning this war, or stopping it peacefully."  
"So, I'm just a pawn, is that what you're saying? The years I spent studying Starship Command, the courses I took, the theoretical…"  
"Courses mean _squat _out here, Captain!" Hill shouted. "This is real, it's war, and it's bloody, and it's going to get everybody on this ship killed if you don't shape up and realise that!" She stood, and started pacing the room, taking a breath. "I've worked my way up the ranks after earning my own Brevet title, and I was asked to give up my rank and ship, temporarily, to assist you, to guide you. I was about to take off my Brevet pin for real, and actually _earn_ the right to be called Captain, but no. Instead I get to babysit on the USS Kindergarden."  
"Attention."  
Hill turned towards Jason. "Excuse me?"  
"I said _Attention_, Commander Hill. So you will _stand at __**attention!**_"  
The Commander snapped into a perfect, straight pose. She could have been a statue, except for the rise and fall of her uniform to indicate any life. Jason rose from his chair slowly, and Hill had to strain to hear his voice.  
"Now, I gave you permission to speak freely. That does _not_ give you permission to insult either myself, our CMO, or our head of Security. Yes, I'm young. Yes, there are things I have to learn. That's why, as you say, you're here. So you will carry out your orders, you will do your job to the best of your ability, or you will leave this ship and stand for Court Martial. Do I make myself clear?"  
"Yes, sir." Hill whispered.  
"What?"  
"Yes, sir!"  
Jason nodded once, then sighed. "Commander, we have to find a way to work together, if not like each other. Can we do that?"  
"Yes, sir."  
Feeling much older than his years, Jason sat back down. "Dismissed."  
Hill spun on one foot, and marched out. Once the door had hissed shut behind her, Jason put his head in his hands, and sighed. "It's gonna be one of those Stardates."

* * *

"She said you were _too young?_" Sammy grinned over the table

"Yup."

"She's aware that she'd only a year older than you?"

"Yeah…I don't get that, actually. How is she a Commander after only a year?"

"Tactical prodigy, man." Sammy shrugged. "I thought you read that in her file."

Jason took a sip of his coffee. "It wasn't very clear."

"Ah."

"The words, not the phrasing. I was still pretty drunk at that point."

"Ah."

"You're not helping matters any, man."

"Ah." Sammy grinned. "What can I say? This isn't our usual dinner ambiance."

Jason nodded, feeling the need to concede the point. In the academy, they had earned, between the two of them, a lot of Holodeck time as rewards for being the top of their classes. As such, they had decided to spend them wisely, and once a week, they would have dinner together on the site of a great historical battle, during mid-battle. They had gotten used to the smell of burnt gunpowder and cannon balls flying overhead, or ancient bombers preparing to drop their payloads on towns and cities. Sammy was, in fact, quite fond of dining during the London Blitz, although Jason couldn't quite get his appetite after the first bomb struck.

"No Holodecks." Sammy nodded. "Still, dinner's nice."

"Yeah. It's just…I'm just annoyed by Commander Hill."

"Oh, no."

"What?"

"You're into her, aren't you?"

Jason laughed. "Oh, please."

"Denial's how it all starts, Jay. Denial, then you'll be mooning all over her, wondering why she hasn't returned your Comms…"  
"Sammy, I'm the Captain. She has to return my Comms, it's regulations."  
"True, but...look me in the eye and tell me you're not interested."  
Jason sighed, and put down his fork. Looking Sammy squarely in the eyes, he enunciated clearly. "I am not interested in Commander Hill in a romantic fashion."  
Sammy nodded. "Liar."  
"Sammy!"  
"What? See, I bet part of you, at least, is thinking 'She said I was too young, but what if she meant too young _for her?_" Edwards smirked. "I bet she's thinking about you, too."  
"On how to best kill me and assume command?"  
"Naah. You're working the Whyrens Charm on her, I bet. She's probably laying in bed, thinking about how to get back in your good books."

"Stupid…immature…_idiot!_" Katharine scowled to herself, as she punched the training dummy in front of her. The small gymnasium on board the Fizzgig was usually empty at this time, which was why she preferred to use it during the night shift. Although she tried to be as open and friendly to the crew as possible, there were a few things you just didn't let said crew see…and an angry Commander destroying training material was one of them. Spinning, she delivered a roundhouse kick to the dummy's head, where the side of it collapsed in on itself, then slowly began to reform into its' original shape.  
"Good kick, Commander."  
Hill spun, and faced Corspa. Frowning slightly at her failure to notice the Ensign come in, Hill nodded to her.  
"What brings you down here tonight, Corspa?"  
"Training, really." The Andorian shrugged. "I figured that, with it being so late, nobody would be here. I guess I was wrong. I can go if you'd like, Commander."  
Hill shook her head. "No, that's fine. And we're off duty…you can call me Katharine. Or Kat, if you'd prefer."  
Corspa smiled uncertainly. "Thanks…Kat. So, what did the dummy do?"  
Kat glanced back at the training device. "No, not that one." Corspa grinned. "Captain Jay."  
Hill blinked. "I have no idea what you mean, Ensign. The Captain's a good man, settling into routine on a new command."  
"Yeah, yeah. Ensign Jonas was on Helm when you and the Captain had your fight. He said it was like a storm was breaking in the ready room."  
"Damn Betazoids." Kat shook her head. "If you _must_ know, we had a difference of opinion."  
"I already knew that. What I mean is, how're you two going to fix it?"  
"He's the Captain."  
"And you're the experienced officer, here, Kat." Corspa moved her towel from around her neck, and put it on the floor between the two of them. "Here's a line, right?"  
"Right."  
"So, who crossed it first? You, or him?"  
Kat sighed. "I don't remember."  
"Okay, so let's assume it was both of you. So, it's down to both of you to fix it."  
Kat shook her head. "It isn't that simple."  
Corspa smiled gamely. "Let me try to put this another way." She paused for a second, and Kat saw her antenna twitching, to show she was deep in thought. "Okay, here we go: you two are the most senior officers on this ship, right?"  
"Right."  
"So, if you two are arguing, people will either think you hate each other, or you love each other. Since you just met, and have avoided each other since your little spat in the ready room, it could go either way, but Ensign Jonas didn't say he detected any feelings of love on either of your parts."  
Kat nodded slowly. Corspa, pleased to see her had her superiors' attention, continued. "So, if you two aren't going to work together, that'll be bad for morale. People will question either you, or the Captain…neither result we can afford right now. Not in a war, and never on a Starfleet vessel."  
Kat smiled slowly. "You're pretty good at this, you know."  
Corspa shrugged. "I took a few psychology courses, to stop people thinking I was just cannon fodder. Now people think I'm _smart_ cannon fodder, with a nice butt."  
Kats smile turned into a grin. "Ever think about logging yourself in as ships counselor?"  
Corspa chuckled, and launched a spinning heel kick, narrowly avoiding Kat. "Healing through hurting. I like it." She picked up her towel, and nodded to Kat.  
"I'll work out some other time. Good night, Commander."  
"Good night, Ensign."

Once Corspa was gone, Kat sighed and shook her head.

Jason entered his quarters, matching the sigh of the door. "Lights!" He called out, to no response. "Lights!" He shook his head, and reached for the manual control. Bringing the lights up slowly, he shucked his uniform off, and straightened his t-shirt.  
'_Time to call the parents before I _finally _get some shut eye?_' He checked the Chrono on his Quarters wall. '_2am British time...maybe a _little_ late to call them. I'll do it tomorrow._' He grinned to himself, then caught sight of his computer terminal.

**New Internal Message Waiting.**

Jason growled. "When can I get _any_ sleep on this damn ship?" Sighing, he made his way over to the terminal, and sat down heavily at his desk. "Fine, fine. Play message."  
A few, brief lines of text flickered up, stating the terminal the message had been composed from. Having seen so many of these types of messages before, usually from Sammy at the Academy, Jason thought nothing of it, and waited for the message to appear. When the four line message _did_ appear, Jason began to wish he'd paid more attention.

**Pawn.**  
**Don't trust her.**  
**From,**  
**A friend.**

'_Pawn? Isn't that what Commander Hill called me?' _"...No." Jason stated to himself firmly. "It's what I called _myself_ in front of her. And who's 'her'?" With a last flicker of regret that this would probably be his second sleepless night on board his command, Jason tapped his Commbadge.  
"Whyrens to Ensign Edwards. Please report to my quarters immediately."  
Within minutes, Sammy showed up at Jasons' door. Tapping the entrance alert button, Sammy was surprised to see his normally unflappable friend reach out as soon as the door opened, grab him, and yank him inside.  
"Lock door, Authorisation Whyrens Tango Four." After the door had chirped to indicate it had, indeed, locked, Jason pointed his old friend towards his terminal.

"Aww, yeah, what's this, man? Got a camera stashed in the female locker room in the gym?" Sammy looked over the text. " 'Don't trust her.'" He thought about this for a second. "Her, who?"  
"I don't know."  
"And who's Pawn?"  
"Me."  
"You're Pawn."  
"Yes."  
"And who's 'her'?"  
"No idea."  
"Who's your friend?"  
"Nobody that I know."  
Sammy affected a hurt look. "Not even me?"  
"Shut up." Jason shook his head. "This is an internal message, but I missed the sending terminal. The only person on this ship who's called me 'Pawn' since I got here was...well..me."  
"You called _yourself_ Pawn."  
"Yes."  
"Which is what your mysterious friend called you."  
"...Yes."  
"So!" Sammy smiled. "You're your own friend! I always said you were a likeable fellow, it looks like you've finally started to agree with me!"  
"_Sammy!_" Jason shook his head. "I called myself a Pawn in the argument with Commander Hill."  
"Ohh. So, is she your friend, or the 'her' you can't trust?"  
"I don't know. If she's my friend, she's got a funny way of showing it. It would make sense that someone else, who could have been eavesdropping, heard me say that, and wanted to let me know I couldn't trust Hill."  
"Makes sense, except for one thing."  
"What's that?"  
"Who'd eavesdrop on a conversation in the captain's Ready Room?"  
"I...oh."  
Sammy smiled triumphantly, and crossed his arms in satisfaction. "Exactly. Checkmate..Pawn."  
Jason shook his head. "This is hopeless. I'll have to talk to Commander Hill about this."  
"What if you can't trust her?"  
Jason had his mouth open to answer, when the door chimed. He blinked, then jerked his head towards the door. "What're the odds that's Commander Hill now?"  
"About one in 198."  
"Pain in the neck." Jason turned to the door, and raised his voice. "Who is it?"  
"It's Commander Hill, Captain. Can I have a quick word with you?"  
"Anything for a _friend_." Sammy chimed in, and grinned evilly at Jason, before heading towards the door.  
"Sammy, wait! What if I _can't_ trust her?" Jason hissed at him. He pretended to give it some thought. "Well, if you don't show up for duty tomorrow, and Commander Hill's wearing Captain pips, I might convince someone to start an investigation.." He hovered his finger over the 'unlock' button. "Oh, one last thing."  
"Yes?"  
"Remember our second year at the Academy?"  
Jason frowned. "...Yeees. Why?"  
"Edwards Manoeuvre."  
"No, Sammy!"

Commander Hill was waiting outside patiently when the door hissed open, and saw Ensign Edwards kissing the Captain full on the lips. He broke the kiss, and winked at the other man, before whispering, "Later, Darling." Before moving past her with a curt nod. "Commander."  
"Doctor." She turned back to the Captain, who had an odd expression of equal parts rage and resignation. "So, you and the good Doctor are...?"  
"No. And there's nothing 'good' about him."  
"I...see." Kat said, leaving no doubts that she didn't. "May I come in?"  
"Of course." He moved to one side, to allow her access to his quarters. She walked in, and glanced around briefly. There was an odd message on the computer terminal, but the Captain darted past her and turned it off before she could read it.  
"Personal message, from home. Just congratulating me on my command...you know how parents are."  
Kat nodded. "I was wondering..."  
"About Sammy?" Jason shook his head. "It's something he cooked up at the Academy to stop me trying to date one of my fellow students. I'm not...well. I'm just not."  
"Thanks for clarifying that, Captain, but that wasn't what I was curious about."  
"Ah, okay. So, whilst I don't want to seem rude...why are you here?"  
"It's about our conversation earlier today."  
Jason nodded, and gestured towards the couch. Kat smiled faintly, and sat down, with Jason at the opposite end to her. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I'd like to start again, if we may."  
"Of course, Commander."  
"In time, I think you'll find me a valuable addition to the crew. And I _would_ like for you to consider me a friend."  
"A friend?" Whyrens seemed mildly surprised by this.  
"Well, yes. I wouldn't want you to think you couldn't trust me."  
In the ensuing silence, she became very aware that the Captain was staring at her intently.  
"What's wrong, Captain?"  
"We're off duty, you can call me Jason."  
"Thank you, Jason. Please, feel free to call me Kat."  
Jason smiled oddly. "Thank you. And I'd like to consider you a friend. After all, it's not like there's some hidden message out there telling me not to trust you."  
Kat puzzled over this. "No, I suppose not."  
Jason nodded. "You don't have to call me Jason, you know."  
"I...I don't?"  
"No, it's just the two of us here. You could feel free to call me...well, anything you wanted."  
Kat blinked. "Like what?"  
"Ohh, I don't know. I'm sure you'll _get the message_, as it were." Jason winked at her.  
Kat was suddenly overcome with not a small measure of discomfort. "Captain, I think I should be going."  
Jason blinked. "Very well. See you in the morning, Kat."  
"Thank you, sir." Kat hurried out of the room, and moved down the corridor. '_I can't believe he was making a pass at me! What a jerk!'_

Back in his quarters, Jason sighed, and got up, shutting the terminal down in the process. "Well," He muttered to himself before dropping heavily into his bed, and exhaustion took him into a deep, dreamless sleep, "Maybe she _didn't_ send the message after all."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The next morning was rather peaceful, up to a point. Jason finally managed to get some sleep, and even woke up in time to get breakfast, dressed, and show up to the bridge in time. Feeling refreshed, he moved to his chair, and looked around, smiling. "Good morning, everybody. Status report please, Mr Jonas?"  
His helmsman nodded, never taking his eyes from his console. "Every department reporting 100% efficiency. Engines are at 97% of capacity, and Doctor Edwards would like to see you at your earliest convenience."  
"Did he say why?"  
"No, sir, merely that he wanted to talk to you about something." Jason pondered over this. "Did you speak to him face to face, or over the Comms?"  
"Face to face, sir."  
"Was he smiling?"  
"Sir?"  
"Or was his left eyelid twitching?"  
Jonas turned around in his chair. "…Twitching, sir?"  
Jason smiled, himself. "Ensign, I've known our Doctor since we were nine years of age. Over that amount of time, you learn to read someone's tells…when they're lying, when they're out to start trouble, that sort of thing. Doctor Edwards, when he's trying to plot my inevitable doom, as he is _often_ wont to do, will smile and get an uncontrollable tic in his left eyelid."  
"I only met the man yesterday, sir. I honestly haven't spent much time looking into his eyes."  
Whyrens sighed. "I can't say I recommend it. If the eyes truly are the window of the soul, then Sammy is the most evil man alive. Looking into his eyes is like looking at a shuttle-crash. It's horrific, but you can't look away."  
Jonas blinked, then nodded slowly. "I'll try to keep that in mind, sir."  
"Good." Jason nodded back. "Has our First Officer reported in for duty today?"  
"No, sir, she said she had to run a personal errand."  
"A personal errand?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"How…exactly," Jason said, puzzled. "Can someone run a personal errand on a ship that's  
roughly the size of a kumquat?"  
"I don't know, Sir, but that's what she said."  
Jason thought about it for a moment. "Maybe she wanted to see if she could reach out with her hands and touch both sides of the hull with her fingers?"  
A few officers on the bridge chuckled lightly at that one. "Or…possibly she decided to run the entire length of the ship, did it twice, but stopped after 10 seconds because she got bored."  
Ensign Jonas smiled broadly at that one. "I believe she's actually in the science lab, sir."  
"Science lab? I thought she studied tactics."  
"Yes, sir, but she was bet that she couldn't find anything smaller in the universe than this ship, so she's using the most powerful Nanoscope we have to locate something. The molecule she found before was too big, and had to be discounted from the bet."  
Everyone on the bridge laughed, and the Captain nodded appreciatively towards Jonas. "That's a good one, Ensign. You should remember that."

As the laughter subsided, the door to the bridge slid open, and Commander Hill entered. "Good morning, Captain."  
"Commander." Jason greeted her. "How was the science lab?"  
"Sir?" Kat blinked, then looked around as the bridge crew started laughing. She flushed slightly, then tilted her head in the direction of the ready room. "A moment of your time, sir?"  
"Of course, Commander." Jason glanced around. "Ensign Corspa, you have the bridge."  
Corspa nodded. "Aye, sir."  
As Jason and Kat entered the ready room, Jason swore he heard Corspa say "I'm not saying this ship's small, but…" before the door closed.  
"What was that?"  
Jason blinked. "Pardon?"  
Kat gestured towards the door, and, by extension, the bridge. "The laughing. Were you making fun of me?"  
"_What?_" Jason laughed. "No, of course not. I'm not going to undermine your authority. What do you take me for?"  
"Oh. I just thought you were trying to get some sort of childish revenge…after last night…"  
"There's the 'child' comment again. I'm, what, 10 months younger than you? And after _what_ last night?"  
"After…you know."  
Jason shook his head, confused. "Nooo. We had a brief talk, you ran like you were on fire, and then I went to bed."  
Kat sighed. "Do you really want to force me to say it?  
"Say what?"  
"After you…made a pass at me."

Kat continued, pacing the ready room. "Don't get me wrong, Jason, I'm flattered, but, we've only just met, and I can't make the sudden leap from total stranger I've argued with to romantic interest. It's just not who I am, and…" She turned to face him, and grew slightly un-nerved by the shocked look on his face. "What?"  
"You…think…you think I was trying to get you into bed?"  
"Well, not _right_ away. I'd expect a little romance, first. Maybe a nice meal, a moonlit stroll on some quiet planet…but not Risa!" She made a shooing motion with her arms. "I don't jump into a swimsuit for just anyone, buddy." She jabbed him in the ribs with her finger, hard.  
"Hey!" Jason said, rubbing the spot where she poked him. "That isn't…I wasn't trying to 'make a pass' at you."  
"You weren't?"  
"No."  
"Then what was last night about?"  
Jason sighed, and sat on the edge of his desk. "Okay, look. Last night when I got into my quarters-"

"Red alert! Captain and First Officer to the bridge! All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill."

Jason and Kat looked at each other for a split second, then shot out of the door.

"Report, Ensign."  
Corspa moved out of Jasons' chair, and waited until he sat down before starting. "We've received a Distress signal from a ship two light years out. They say they're under attack from Klingon marauders."  
"Ensign Jonas, where are we, exactly?"  
Jonas consulted his console board for roughly half a second, to confirm what he knew. "We're in the Argelius Sector, approximately four light years from Xleen."  
Kat turned to Jason, confused. "That's well within our borders, sir. This could be the start of a push from the Klingons."  
"Time to intercept?"  
"Three minutes, Captain."  
"Commander Hill, send a message to Starfleet Intelligence, requesting any and all data to confirm that Klingons are starting to infiltrate our space. Priority One that, Commander, I don't want to show up with phasers blazing because someone's playing a prank."  
"Aye, sir." Kat pulled her Padd from a pocket, and started typing. "Whyrens to Medical bay. Doctor Edwards-"  
"Jason, what the hell's going on up there? I can barely hear myself not thinking!"  
"Sammy, we're about two and a half minutes from entering combat. Stand by to receive wounded from crew and survivors of a Klingon raid."  
"_Klingon?_ Aye, sir." Sammy sounded more professional now, more like the Doctor that Jason knew he was. "Medical bay reports ready. Science systems ready."  
Corspa looked up. "Tactical systems ready."  
"Engineering, ready." This from the Comm system, the ships engineer that Jason had met only briefly the day before.  
"Sir." Kat looked up from her Padd. "Starfleet Intelligence confirms they've received reports that Klingon vessels are starting to enter our space and harassing Federation ships."  
"Understood, Commander." Jason spun in his chair to face Corspa. "Ensign Corspa, weapons status."  
"Sir, front phaser bank is active and ready. Front torpedo bay is primed and ready. Rear phaser bank, active and ready."  
Jason waited expectantly, but Corspa shrugged. "That's our full complement of weapons, sir."  
He frowned. "Well, if a little Jewish kid can beat a giant with a rock, I'm sure we can do better with phased energy and antimatter warheads."  
Kat glanced at him sideways. "Some rocks."  
Jason smiled at her, and was about to make a follow-up comment, when he was cut off. "Captain, we're in visual range."  
"On screen, Ensign."

The viewscreen image was one of death, and fire. Four Klingon ships…Jason could pick out two Birds of Prey, one Raptor class Escort, and a Vor'cha Cruiser…engaged in what could generously be labelled as wholesale massacre of a supply ship.  
"Status of the distressed vessel?"  
"Life support failing on decks four, six, seven, nine, and ten. Engines non-functional. They appear to have hull breaches across the majority of the ship, and they're venting plasma from their nacelles."  
Jason absorbed this all. One poorly armed vessel, in theoretically safe space, getting hammered into oblivion by four ships, each one of them capable of destroying it in seconds.  
"This is sport."  
"Sir?"  
"Run the math, Ensign." Jason looked at Jonas. "Each one of those ships is, at bare _minimum_, capable of unleashing four times the firepower of that vessel. It didn't stand a chance. Any life readings?"  
"17, sir, very faint."  
Jason thought for a second. "Shields up. And hail the Vor'cha."  
"Shields up, sir."  
"Captain…"  
Jason looked at Kat. "Commander, please hail the Vor'cha."  
Kat held back a sigh. "Yes, sir. On-screen."  
A Klingon warrior appeared before them, glowering as only a Klingon could. "_nuqneH, jaghla' Tera'ngan_?"  
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Kat glanced over at her console. "Sir, the Universal Translator _is_ functioning."  
Jason nodded. "Of course it is. Klingons speaking _ta' Hol _in times of war means very few non Klingons can understand them, so their transmissions are harder to decode." He looked around. "Who here actually _speaks_ another language?" At the assembled blank looks he received, he shook his head. "Too dependent on technology to do our thinking for us."  
"You waste my time, Human!" The Klingon spat in perfect English. "Are you going to _teach_, or _fight?_"  
Jason glared back at the Klingon, and stood, moving closer to the screen. "This is Captain Jason Whyrens, of the Federation Starship Fizzgig. You're intruding on Federation space. Turn back now, or I'll be forced to engage."  
The Klingon laughed. "You are a _puq Tera'ngan_, not worthy of my time."  
Jason sighed. "Why must everyone around me call me a child?"  
"Go back and play with your toys, _puq_. I will be with you soon enough."  
"_naDevvo' yIghoS, Hom Quch Hutlhbogh tlhIngan."_  
The Klingon growled at him, visibly angry. "_tlhIngan maH!_"  
Jason yawned, and pointedly turned his back on the warrior. "_bImoH. 'oy' mInDu'wIj_"  
"_**NuQ?**_"  
Jason nodded to Kat, who shut off the transmission. Whistling jauntily, he sat back in his  
chair. He grinned at Kat. "David and Goliath." Before she could ask what he meant, he had turned to face the tactical console. "Ensign Corspa, when we get to half a lightyear from target, prepare a high yield torpedo burst at the Vor'Cha, to fire when we reach a quarter lightyear, and put all shield power to forward. When we get to within 11 kilometres, increase power to phasers and when we get to ten, maintain a continuous attack on whichever shield side the Torpedoes will hit. Ensign Jonas, drop from warp when we're 11 and a half kilometres out, and close to optimum range for the phasers, using attack pattern Alpha. I want those shields down, or weakened drastically, before the torpedoes hit. We've only got one chance at this."  
"Aye, sir."  
"Aye."

As the two Ensigns worked together to prepare the tactic, Kat moved closer to Jason, and leant down, so they could talk quietly.  
"Sir, what did you _say_ to the Klingon that got him so mad?"  
"The first time, or the second?"  
Kat frowned. "Let's start with the first."  
"Literally translated, '_naDevvo' yIghoS, Hom Quch Hutlhbogh tlhIngan' _means 'Go away, you forehead bone-less Klingon.' It has some colloquialisms that were, well, highly insulting to his ancestors, and his manhood."  
"…You insulted a Klingons' ancestors."  
Jason shrugged. "He called me a _puq_. A child."  
"I got that part."  
Jason winked at her. "I **really** don't like being called a child."  
Kat flushed slightly. "And the second time?"  
"Ohh, that was an easy one. I told him he was ugly and hurting my eyes."  
Kats' own eyes widened. "You insulted a Klingons' ancestors, his manhood, _and_ told him he was ugly enough to hurt your eyes."  
"Pretty much, yeah. And I had my back to him when I said it. Klingons believe that if you're not looking in their eyes and facing them when you speak to them is one of the most insulting things you can do."  
She couldn't stop her voice from raising. "You're going to get us killed!"  
"Not even close." Jason turned back to Corspa. "Ensign, are you ready?"  
"I think so sir, but this is going to be risky. We'll be flying in the path of our own Torpedoes, with no rear shields other than navigational shields that wouldn't put up so much as a whimper from a direct Torpedo hit when it's moving at impulse, let alone the speed they're going to be travelling. If we mess up, we won't live long enough to realise it." She pondered. "But, if we pull this off, this'll probably go down in history as the Whyrens Manoeuvre."  
Jason ignored the last comment. '_Assuming I'm alive to enjoy the fame.' _He glanced at Ensign Jonas, who grew pale after he'd thought that. '_Eyes forward, Mr Jonas._'  
"Ensign," he continued. "What's the status of the supply ship?"  
"It's…" Corspa looked surprised. "Sir, the Klingons are leaving it alone, and forming up against us."  
Kat smiled slightly. "We save the civilians."  
"Only if this works." Jason admitted. "If it doesn't, we're all dead. However, we'll die first, and I want to know we did everything we could to save those people." Kat studied him, and Jason thought he saw, for the first time, a measure of respect. "Distance?"  
"One third of a lightyear, sir."  
"Save the 'sir' stuff when we're in combat, Mr Jonas. It takes too much time."  
"Aye, sir. I mean, aye." Jonas watched his board. "Starting in three…two…one…mark."  
"Torpedoes away, High Yield spread."  
"Dropping from warp, initiating attack pattern Alpha."  
"And here we go…" Jason heard Kat mutter.

* * *

Phasers, or PHASed Energy Rectification, was precisely what the name implied. Phased energy sapped the Vor'cha Cruisers shields at almost the instant the Fizzgig emerged from warp. The insulted Klingon commander laughed when told this, because yes, the little ship was slowly draining his shields away, but it was one ship, created before his father was even born. His father, the Klingon mentioned loudly, who had very prominent forehead ridges. He was too busy, too fixated on what the _puq Tera'ngan_ had said, however, to monitor his bridge crew. He was Klingon! A proud warrior, and none before him had reached this far into enemy space. Songs would be sung about this day.  
"Tell the other ships to depart." He spat out to his communications officer.  
"What?"  
"Are you questioning my orders?"  
"No, sir."  
"This ship is no match for us." He rose his voice to be heard by all on his bridge. "_tlhIngan maH!_ We are Klingons! They are shooting at us with one phaser beam. We have 18 disruptor beams! We have our Disruptor Cannon! If they had anything more powerful, they would be using it. We can swat them like Globflies! Send the others away, this kill is mine. The glory is mine."  
The communications officer sent the other ships away. '_Good_', the commander thought to himself. _'Let them go, to sing the songs about my deeds today. I will play with this _puq _before I kill him for his dishonourable words. Victory shall be_ mine_!_'  
"Distance to the Federation vessel?"  
"Three and a half Kellicams."  
The commander grinned, baring his teeth. "Let them get to one Kellicam. Then blow them out of space."  
"Yes Commander."

On board the Fizzgig, Jason watched the tactical display. "When we get to just over two kilometres, peel off and evade."  
"Evade what? The other ships have left, and they're not attacking."  
"Ensign Jonas, their main weapon is a Disruptor cannon that could disintegrate us at two kilometres, shields or no. The cruiser doesn't _need _the other ships. When we get to two kilometres…_evade_."  
"The Klingons' shields are at 2%."  
"Estimated time to our gatecrashers, Corspa?"  
"Five seconds."  
"Two kilometres, Sir."  
"Evade, shields to maximum rear…get us out of here!"  
Corkscrewing away from the Cruiser, the Fizzgig pushed its' engines as hard as it could. The Commander of the cruiser saw it, and opened his mouth to speak.  
"What are they-"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence.

* * *

Whilst Phasers are good for sapping shields, they have relatively little punch when it comes to the thick hull of a starship. Photon Torpedoes, however, have _excellent_ punch against starship hulls. The damage they can do is roughly on the order of ten times the damage of a phaser, and that's during combat at impulse power. Photon torpedoes, and its' later cousins, were designed for warp combat. So, their casings are, whilst not warp capable by themselves, still capable of travelling at warp speeds. Whilst two relatively weak Photon Torpedoes wouldn't do much against the amazingly thick duranium hull of the Vor'cha, when you consider that warp one is the speed of light, and that space is frictionless, this would mean that the Fizzgig launched two highly explosive missiles, which would still be travelling at the speed of light, directly at an unshielded vessel.

Had they fired a pair of shoes at the ship instead, the result would have been the same.

The torpedoes punched through the hull of the Vor'cha as if it wasn't even there. Calculated down to the last nanosecond, the torpedoes waited until they were in the direct centre of the ship before obediently fulfilling their only purpose. Magnetic containment shields within the casing shut down, and Matter and Antimatter reacted as they only ever can. With a violent explosion.  
One hundredth of a second after initial impact, there was nothing of the cruiser left larger than a fingernail.

On the Fizzgig, the bridge crew cheered. Jason smiled to himself, and sat back down in his chair, unaware of having stood up in the first place. He looked over at Katharine, who was looking back with a lot more respect. "Captain, the Klingon ship has been destroyed. Damage report coming in…zero damage across all decks. Sickbay reports no injuries save for nausea that affected a crewman in an area where inertial compensators were working inadequately. You did it…sir." She smiled.  
"_We_ did it, Commander. All of us. Well done. Ensign Corspa, Ensign Jonas…I'm putting a note of commendation in your permanent records for the fine work you did. You two saved the people on board that ship, and the lives of every man and woman on the Fizzgig. Get us to within transporter range of that supply ship, and beam the survivors directly to sickbay."  
He tapped a button on his chair. "Whyrens to Doctor Edwards. Please stand by to receive wounded from the ship we just saved." He waited for a response. "Doctor Edwards, report."  
"That son of a bitch threw up on my _shoes_!"

* * *

The feeling of celebration continued well across the rest of the day. When Jason toured the ship on his way to sickbay, to check in on the survivors of the attack, his crewmen all wanted to shake his hand. They had gone up against a foe with more than six times their firepower, and gotten away clean, without a scratch. They felt immortal, unstoppable, and their new captain was a hero in their eyes.  
'_They'll stop feeling that when we're in another battle and people __**do**__ get hurt, or __**do**__ die. When we have to limp back to a Starbase for emergency repairs, or to bury our dead. When they learn I'm not unstoppable._' He shook himself out of his train of thought. '_But for now, of course, let them enjoy their feelings. I know __**I **__will._' He walked a little further, then felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, expecting another crewman to want to offer his congratulations, and stared right into Katharine's green/brown eyes.  
"Captain."  
"Commander. What can I do for you?"  
"I just wanted to say…I'm sorry. About everything, I mean. That tactic was crazy, and suicidal, and brilliant." She paused for a second. "And…I know I would _never_ have come up with something like that."  
Jason frowned. "Yes, you would have. You're a tactical prodigy, aren't you? That's what your file said. You probably thought of it before I did. You don't have to congratulate me for an idea we both had, Commander. If I hadn't have come up with it, you would have."  
"No, sir." She shook her head. "That was totally unorthodox. I don't think in such…inventive ways. My brain says 'Go to point A. Then point B. Then point C.' Yours went 'Go to point A. Then point F. Then point D.' And that business with the Klingon…when did you learn to speak it?"  
"My father was a trader who did some business with Klingons. One of them decided to teach me the finer points of etiquette, years ago, after I accidentally insulted his mother."  
"Could you teach me?"  
That stopped Jason in his tracks. "Teach _you_?"  
"Yes, sir. I think that, if we're going to survive this war, we need to understand the enemy completely, and not just their strategies."  
"I'll think about it, Commander…but the answer will probably be yes."Kat smiled. "Thank you, sir. Oh, and you wanted to talk to me about a message you got last night?"  
Jason shook his head. "Later, Commander. I want to meet with the survivors, to see if they know why Klingons are in this sector of space."  
"Of course, sir. I'll leave you to it." Kat nodded at him, and moved to walk away.  
"Commander?" Jason called after her.  
"Yes, sir?" She turned.  
"I'll see you on the bridge, Kat." He smiled at her, enjoying the smile he got in return, and entered Sickbay.

* * *

"So, it was a random encounter with the Klingons?"  
Jason nodded at Sammy. "That's how it appears. I have no reason to doubt them, they're just traders on a supply run, taking food and medicine to the Tostig system, in case the Gorn advance there like the rumours they've heard are true."  
The two men were walking towards the mess hall for an early dinner. Sammy had prescribed Jason an early night, since his first 36 hours on board the Fizzgig weren't as relaxing as a shakedown cruise was supposed to be. They had decided on joining the crew, rather than dining in one of their quarters, to show that the senior staff wasn't too good to eat with the rank and file. '_Actually, it had been Sammy's idea, and he was pretty insistent about it._' Jason pondered to himself, but put it out of mind.  
"So, was the battle today worthy of recreating for a dinner scenario when we get a ship with a Holodeck?"  
"No, it was pretty one sided. David beat Goliath, and with roughly the same tools."  
"But instead of throwing a rock, you threw a bomb at the speed of light."  
"Pretty much, yeah."  
"I'll wait for the holo-adventure to come out, then, don't spoil any of the big scenes." Sammy chuckled. "Is it true you were bad-mouthing a Klingon?"  
"I thought you didn't want any of the big scenes spoiled."  
"That's no fair."  
They paused outside the messhall. "Seriously, though, man, you did a good thing today." Sammy looked sincere, which was in and of itself a cause for Jason to get worried.  
"What's going on?"  
"Nothing!"  
Jason looked closer at his friend. "Sammy, your left eyelid's twitching."  
"Is it? Don't be stupid, Jay." He pressed the door-button for the mess, and strode inside two steps, before turning back to Jason. "Dammit, why're the lights out?"  
"Not in here, too?" Jason sighed. "The voice recognition in my quarters doesn't recognise the light command, and now these ones just don't work? Hang on…" He reached for the manual control, and brought the lights up…to see his senior staff all wearing silver and gold conical hats on their head.  
"Surprise!"  
Kat beamed at them, holding a hat in each hand. "We convinced the Doctor to bring you along, so we could have a proper welcoming party for you." She handed Sammy a silver hat, and, before Jason could protest, put the gold one on his head. "A time honoured Fizzgig tradition."  
Jason blinked. "How many times have you done this?"  
Kat blushed. "Okay, this is the first time,but I've only been here a few weeks, myself. We should _make_ it a time honoured Fizzgig tradition."  
"Definitely, Commander." Jason nodded. "Make it so."

* * *

The party continued for several hours, until it came down to just four people. Sammy and Corspa were sat in a corner of the mess, resting on a table and leaning in close to each other, talking quietly and whispering things in each others ears. Jason watched them contentedly, whilst Kat maintained a close, yet respectable distance.  
"Jason?"  
"Yeah?" He said, snapped back to reality after wondering idly what any off-spring Sammy and Corspa would look like.  
"You said you'd talk to me later about a message?"  
"Oh, yes. Well, I wouldn't want to kill the party mood."  
She smiled at him. "There's not much of a party anymore."  
"True. Well…" And he explained the message, and how it arrived, to her. When he'd done, she frowned. "Who sent the message?"  
"I don't know, the information about the sending terminal scrolled past so quickly, I couldn't read it."  
"Okay, but you scrolled up, right?"  
"Huh?"  
"If you scroll up, you can read the information."  
"…Really?"  
"Yes." Kat smiled patiently. "But remember, if you can't trust me, and I knew you couldn't trust me, I wouldn't have told you that. And, if I _was_ the one who sent that message, I wouldn't have told you that, because if I wanted to be anonymous about it, I would have sent it from a public terminal, and wouldn't care if you saw the terminal data or not."  
Jason grinned. "No wonder you outrank me. You're smart!"  
Kat blushed. "I try. Should we go check it out?"  
He shrugged. "Sure." He turned to where Sammy and Corspa were sitting. "Hey, kids, Mum and Dad have to go out for a while. You two behave, and no wild parties."  
Sammy didn't even bother to turn around. "Yes, Mum. You and Dad have a good time."  
As they were leaving, Kat turned to Jason. "Was he calling me…mannish?"  
"No, he said I was a girl."  
"Ah."

They reached his Quarters in short order. "I'm not sure how I feel about having quarters so close to the messhall."  
"Well," Kat said sagely, "I've heard it said that this ship is _so_ small…"  
Jason groaned. "Not you, now, too." As Kat laughed, Jason thumbed the Open command. As soon as his thumb made contact with the panel, his fingerprint was recognised by the computer, and scanned against the records of people who were allowed unrestricted access to the Captains' quarters. When it recognised the thumbprint as belonging to Whyrens, Captain J, it activated a fairly new subroutine, that reversed the flow of electricity away from the servos that opened the door, back through into the panel, and into Jason.

He wasn't aware of being thrown back against the opposite bulkhead. He was unconscious by the time his body crumpled up and smacked against the floor. The last thing he heard was just a loud, impossibly deafening bang.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"_Chief Medical Officers log, Stardate 87725.3_

_The Captain remains comatose after suffering from an electric shock from his quarters doorlock some hours ago. Our first officer, Commander Hill, is in command of the vessel, and was the last person to see the Captain before he was incapacitated. Although she claims to be upset, she appears to hide it well."_

Sammy tapped a button on his desk, and stopped recording his log. He let his mind wander back to two days before, when he and Jason were talking about whether or not Jason could put his faith in Commander Hill.

_"Sammy, wait! What if I can't trust her?"_  
_"Well, if you don't show up for duty tomorrow, and Commander Hill's wearing Captain pips, I might convince someone to start an investigation."_

'_Well, Jay, you didn't show up for duty today. And Hill isn't wearing Captains pips, but she may as well be from how she's acting. What were you two up to? You looked pretty cozy last night at the party, and now you're in a coma.'_ Sammy shrugged off the feeling of paranoia that was threatening to coil his stomach. _'And why does she keep putting off coming to speak to me about you?'_ He thought for a few seconds, then looked up at the ceiling. "Computer."  
"Working."  
"Please display the psychological evaluations of Commander Katharine Hill."  
"Please stand by."

* * *

"Please stand by."  
"For what?" Jason scowled, and looked around. He was standing in what appeared to be a starship bridge, but it was pure white, the light reflecting off every surface.  
"Please stand by."  
The computer seemed impatient, even for a non-sentient artificial intelligence. How many times had Jason asked a question, spoken at all, only to hear the same response? It felt like he had been here forever. Something, however, stopped him from entering one of the Turbolifts and getting away from the bridge. It compelled him to stay, something like a mystery as to where he was. It was like he should know it, but when he searched his memory, it wasn't there.  
"Ah, Lieutenant." A voice came from behind him. Jason span around, and eyed the man uncertainly.  
"I didn't hear you enter."  
"Why would you?" The man shrugged, and Jason looked at the mans clothing. Although certainly echoing Starfleet design, the uniform was a matte black, making him a stark contrast in this otherwise pristine and glowing scene. "Status report, please?"

* * *

Kat sighed, and looked across the conference room table. The Chief Engineer on the ship, a short woman named Tahiri, was arguing vehemently about the stability of processors and subroutines.  
"Tahiri…"  
"I'm telling you, I just can't take it anymore."  
"So, you completely deny that the Captain could have gotten a huge electrical shock from his door panel?"  
"It just doesn't have the power!" Tahiri tapped on the built-in controls of the table, and gestured to the monitor in the room. A schematic of the door panel showed up. "Look, there's absolutely no way the system can output so much as a milliwatt of power. It isn't scientifically possible!"  
Kat shook her head slowly. "I saw it happen, Lieutenant. He pressed the button, then an arc of electricity enveloped him for a second and shot him back into the bulkhead behind us. It burnt his uniform! It _did_ happen, it _is_ possible, so you _will_ tell me what's needed to make that happen."  
Tahiri shook her head, then paused. "Wait. You say it happened _after_ he pressed the button?"  
"Yes."  
The engineer let out a little sigh of vexation. "Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?" She tapped a few more buttons, and notes began to appear on the screen, incomprehensible to Kat, but evidently as clear as day for the blonde woman opposite her.  
"Hmm, yes. Yes, that's entirely likely how the Captain was attacked."  
"_Attacked_?" Kat was stunned. "Choose your words very carefully, Lieutenant."  
"Oh, I am. See here?" Tahiri pointed. "This isn't a standard subroutine. We can backtrack the date it was added…" She made a few more adjustments. "No, that can't be right."  
"Why? What does it say?" Kat glanced over the indicated code, but couldn't understand it.  
"This says that the subroutine was added on Stardate 8130.7."  
"That must be wrong."  
"Commander, it isn't. 8130.7, that's what it says, clear as day." Tahiri paused. "To me, at any rate."  
"8130.7 was 2285. 124 years ago. That was when the Fizzgig was being built." Kat shook her head. "To suggest that someone had the captain's thumbprint on file 124 years ago either suggests that the captain's a time traveller, or you're making a mistake."  
Tahiri sighed, a long suffering sound that suggested she'd long dealt with the ignorance of non Engineering commanders. "Commander, nobody had to have the thumbprint on file. It could have been added as early as five seconds before the Captain put his thumb on the door panel. It certainly could have been taken from his Starfleet file. All the person who implemented this would have to do would be to change one variable."  
"So, this _was_ an intentional attack on the captains' life?"  
"Beyond a shadow of doubt, sir." Tahiri nodded apologetically.  
"So. We have a murderer on board."  
"Saboteur and attempted murderer. Captain isn't dead yet." Tahiri ventured, but was silenced from a look from Kat. "Don't tell me you're sweet on him, Katharine."  
"No, I'm not, but that's irrelevant. I have a duty to perform as acting captain. Who else would know about this?"  
"Me, any of my team, the saboteur, and you."  
Kat nodded. "Delete the subroutine, and seal the files you've created to investigate this to my eyes only."  
"Sir?"  
"My eyes only, Lieutenant. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone, not even the Doctor. I don't want whomever did this to realise we're on their trail."  
"Understood, Commander, but isn't the Doctor…you know. The Captain's oldest friend?"  
"Lieutenant, right now, we don't know who we can trust with this thing. Only one person may know why this has happened, apart from the saboteur, and he's in a coma. The only one with _any_ answers is Captain Jason Whyrens."

* * *

"Captain Jason Whyrens, USS Fizzgig. ID Number 800T5-503-78A."  
The man chuckled. "Very good recitation, Lieutenant, but you're not here against your will. Look down?" he suggested. Jason did as he was asked, and was surprised to see that he was wearing the same clothes.  
"Don't you know what this place is?" The man seemed surprised.  
"No."  
"Then it's too early." The man shook his head. "You shouldn't be here. Did you suffer some electrical shock to your system?"  
"I…I don't remember. I was standing outside my quarters with Commander Hill. I pressed the button to let myself in, and then I was here."  
The man nodded, not unsympathetically. "Well, I wish I could tell you where _here_ was, Lieutenant, but sadly, you wouldn't believe me if I told you, and you wouldn't remember it anyway. If you'd like to leave through one of the Turbolifts, you'll wake up."  
"So, this is what? A dream?"  
"Yes, that's all it's been. A Dream. One you'll find you forget as soon as you open your eyes." The man gestured to a waiting Turbolift. "After you."  
"Nutter." Jason shook his head.  
"One last word of advice, Lieutenant? One that you won't remember, but I want it known that I've said?"  
"Sure, why not?"  
"Don't trust her. You can't."  
Jason stared at the man. "Her, who?"  
"You'll find out. I _will_ say that she's the enemy, and you'll wish you remembered this the next time you come here." Jason walked into the Turbolift, never taking his eyes off the man. As soon as it shut…

…His eyes opened, and he saw Sammy looking down at him.  
"About time you were awake, Jay. Sleeping on the job's a court martial offence, you know."  
"Sammy? What…what happened?"  
"Well, the way Commander Hill told it, you got an electric shock from your door, got catapulted back several feet, and you've been unconscious since."  
"How long?"  
Sammy shrugged. "About four and a half years."  
"_What_?"  
"Yup. We're still on the Fizzgig, although now it's a garbage scow, hauling trash between the systems. Commander Hill's now Admiral Hill, and Corspa's the ships captain. We lost the war, by the way. All hail our great Klingon Overlords!"  
Jason stared at his friend. "That's not funny."  
Sammy grinned evilly. "Says who? And you've been out of things for about five hours. I should let the Commander know you're awake."  
Jason nodded.  
"Edwards to-"  
"Wait!" Jason grabbed his friends' arm.  
"What?"  
"I have a better idea."

* * *

Commander Hill rode up to the bridge, after being summoned by Ensign Jonas. She strode out onto the bridge, to be greeted by…  
"Captain Whyrens! You're awake, sir."  
The man before her nodded, and adjusted his apparel slightly. "Yarr, that I be, Lass. How fare thee?"  
Kat blinked a few times. "Sir, why're you talking like that? And…sir…what's with the eye patch?"  
Jason glared at his first officer, although the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was, in fact, wearing an eye patch over his right eye - not to mention the raggedy uniform he was wearing, where Kat could see where the electricity had burned up his trouser legs and arms, giving him the overall impression of…well…a pirate.  
"This be what I wear after I lost me eyesight after I got stabbed by the crew in an attempted mutiny." He looked over to a security officer. "Sorry about that." The security officer nodded, and tapped his VISOR. "That's okay, sir. I should have seen it coming."  
"Yarr!" Jason exclaimed. "That man has a good sense of humour. Commander, give him a parrot."  
"I…don't have a parrot, sir."  
"No parrot? How can ye be a pirate without a parrot?"  
Kat rocked back on her heels lightly. "Sir…are you feeling alright?"  
Jason batted her away. "I feel fine enough to wrestle a shark! A shark on land. A Landshark! YARR!"  
The rest of the bridge crew, caught up in the eccentricities of their clearly insane Captain, let out a "Yarr!" in response.  
"Now!" Jason continued. "If ye no have a parrot, ye no be a pirate. So, what ye be?"  
Kat responded by tapping her comm-badge. "Hill to Doctor Edwards."  
"Edwards here, Commander. I don't want to alarm you, but the Captain woke up, and-"  
"Doctor," Kat cut him off. "The Captain's up here, and-"  
"He's there?" The relief in Sammy's voice was palpable. "I'm on my way. Keep him there, keep him quiet, and whatever you do, don't mention the whale."  
"The…whale?"  
"WHALE!" Jason screamed. "Where be the whale that took me family from me?"  
Kat stroked his arm soothingly. "It's okay, Jay. There's no whale here."  
"WHALE!"  
"No whale. Just us, your…loyal crew."  
"Yarr." Jason watched her stroke his arm, and felt his cheeks start to grow warm. He moved away from her, and looked around. "Me loyal men and women. Women, on a boat. This is madness, how ye put up with us?"  
"We have our ways, sir."  
Jason nodded knowingly. "Ye trained the squirrels."  
'_Squirrels?_' Kat thought despairingly. '_What's happened to you, Jason?_'  
"Yes, sir. I trained the squirrels."  
"Yarr. Ye trained them to ride the pigeons, and take them to battle."  
"Er….yes, sir."  
"Good!"

Kat looked around. '_Where's the Doctor?'_. As if on cue, she heard the turbolift open. "Oh, thank you, Lord!" She turned around to say something to Edwards, but could say nothing,  
with her jaw hanging open. Sammy was dressed in full pirate regalia, complete with eye patch, peg leg, hook hand, and a stuffed toy parrot pinned to his shoulder.  
"Yarr, where be the Cap'n?"  
"Yarr!" Jason greeted the Doctor.  
"Yarr!"  
Jason got a good look at his friend. "Ye always have to one up me."  
"I be a better looking pirate than ye."  
Kat looked between the two, and slowly, realisation dawned upon her.  
"You're both messing with me, aren't you?"  
They both turned to look at her, and, simultaneously, yelled "YAARRRRR!", a cry which went through the whole bridge crew.

Kat sighed, shook her head, and made her way to the lift. "When you boys have regained _some_ semblance of normality, I'll be in my quarters. Captain?"  
"Yarr?"  
"It's good to see you up and about."  
The pirate Captain nodded once, and his voice dropped all artifice. "Thanks, Commander. It's good to be up and about."  
Kat nodded, and waited until the lift doors had shut behind her before allowing herself to smile.

* * *

Later in the day, things had returned to normal. The Captain was still in his burnt uniform, refusing to leave his post. He _had_ opted to take the eye patch off, which was a vast improvement for all concerned. The lift doors hissed open, and he turned to greet Commander Hill.  
"Commander! You're looking much better."  
Kat smiled wryly. "I suppose now you can see from two eyes, you can actually see me properly."  
"You know us pirates, we love our eye patches."  
"Yarr!" Corspa chimed in from her post. Jason and Kat glanced back, to see the Security chief had appropriated the eyepatch.  
"Careful with that thing, Ensign." Jason warned her lightly. "If your distance vision is impaired, you may launch torpedoes and declare war on Vulcan."  
"I'll do my best to not blow any Vulcans up, sir. Today."  
Jason nodded. "Commander, my ready room, please?"  
"Of course, sir."  
Kat followed Jason into the ready room, and, once the door had closed, cuffed him lightly on the head. "Hey!" Jason chuckled. "Striking a superior officer's a court martial offence, you know."  
"So's piracy, _Cap'n_."  
"Point well taken." Jason smiled, and sat down at his desk. "What was that for, anyway?"  
"Making me worry."  
"Worry?" Jason raised an eyebrow.  
"Yes, I'd hate to have to break in a _new_ Commanding Officer before I've barely gotten you house-trained."  
"I'm house-trained. Mostly." Jason leaned back in his chair, and gestured to one on the other side of the desk. Kat sat in the same chair she had during their argument the last time they'd been in the Ready Room.  
"So, how was the investigation going?"  
"Investigation, sir?"  
"The one to find out what happened with my door."  
"Oh, that." Kat paused. "Accidental discharge, sir. Some residual build-up of particles throughout the ship happened to think you were a good conductor of electricity, and…well, you know the rest."  
Jason studied her for a moment, his expression blank. "That's all it was?"  
"Yes, sir." Kat nodded firmly, ignoring the suddenly reptilian, calculating look in his eyes. "Why? Do you have any reason to suspect someone on-board this ship might mean you any harm?"  
"None whatsoever."  
"Well, that's good."  
Jason nodded. "I've been here, what? Two days? Who'd want to kill me?"  
Kat and Jason looked at each other silently. "Nobody I can think of, sir. You saved the ship and the crew on our first encounter with the Klingons."  
Jason nodded. "That I did."  
Kat nodded back. "Is there anything else, sir?"  
"No, Commander, that will be all."  
"Thank you, Captain." Kat got up, and left.

Once she'd gone, Jason shook his head, as if to clear it. "What was that?" He murmured to himself. "It's like I thought she was going to launch herself over my desk and attack me." He sighed, and tapped commands into his terminal, reviewing the days status updates. He caught a glimpse of his bare arm, and held it up for inspection. Fingering the tattered sleeve, he sighed again. "I have to find myself some new clothes." An idea slowly began to form in his mind, and he chuckled at it. "Oh, she'll _hate_ me for this."

* * *

Kat approached Corspa, and leaned in close. "Ensign?"  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Keep an eye on the Captain, will you?"  
"Sir?"  
Kat shrugged. "He's acting strangely."  
"The pirate thing was just a joke, Commander."  
"I know that, but I mean now. I thought, for a moment…"  
"What?"  
Kat shook her head. "It's nothing. But he may be experiencing side effects from his shock. And keep it quiet, will you? If it's nothing, I don't want to worry him."  
"Understood, sir. If I see anything out of the ordinary, I'll Comm you as soon as I can."  
The Ready Room door hissed open, and Jason stuck his head out. "Commander. What year was the Fizzgig commissioned?"  
"2285, sir." Kat replied, without thinking.  
"…How did you know that off the top of your head?"  
"As your First Officer, it's my duty to anticipate your needs and answer your questions." She bluffed.  
Jason pondered this. "Anticipate my needs, eh?"  
"Yes, sir."  
I'll keep that in mind." He smiled innocently. "Oh, by the way, Commander: how do you look in black?"  
"Uhm…"  
"Never mind. I'll find out soon enough. Set course for Earth, please."  
"…Aye…sir."  
Corspa and Kat watched as Jason's head vanished behind the door, and it hissed shut again.  
"Commander…"  
"I know."

* * *

"Ah, Starbase One. The base so nice, they named it…once. But that's Starfleet for you."  
"Why'm I here?" Sammy complained.  
"Quit whining, Sammy, we're here to refit the weapons and install new shields."  
"But that's a job for the engineer. Why'm _I_ here?"  
"We also need to meet Admiral Quinn."  
"That's a job for _you_." Sammy pointed out. "Why'm _I _here?"  
"Stop complaining, Sammy. We're all here." Kat sighed, and looked around, before affecting Sammy's pleading tone of voice . "Captain, why am _I_ here?"  
Jason smiled at her. "I needed your valued opinion."  
"On what, sir? Tactical operations? Weapons load outs? Mission briefs?"  
"Hell, no. Clothes."  
Kat stared at her captain. "That's sexist."  
"Kat, how many pairs of shoes do you own?"  
"What?"  
"How many, Commander?"  
"18." Kat sighed, unhappily.  
Jason stared at her. "18."  
"Yes."  
"Eighteen?"  
"Yes!"  
"Eight_een_ pairs of shoes. I own _three_. Why do you own so many?"  
"That's not many." Kat replied, defensively. "And am I not supposed to accessorise?"  
"With what?" Sammy chipped in. "You only have the one uniform, and that's boring. Red undershirt, grey shoulders, black body…"  
"A silver pair of shoes to go with my silver gown, a red pair of pumps for my little red dress. A pair of black thigh high boots for…"  
"Yes?"  
"Never mind." Kat shook her head. "Also, dress uniform shoes, gym shoes, combat boots. A girl has to be prepared, Captain." She fluttered her eyelashes at him.  
"What do you have to be prepared for with a little red dress and red pumps?"  
"A date, of course."  
Jason stopped in his tracks. Kat continued unabashed. "The same reason I bring a hold-out phaser and a set of nunchucks."  
"Who takes a nunchuck on a date?"  
"Me. If the date ends badly. Like I said, a girl has to be prepared."  
"Ahh." Jason looked around, then pointed. "Sammy, you and Corspa head to see Elsa Mora, would you? I think you'll need ground combat training, and she can help you out with meeting someone to train you two up."  
"Aye, sir!" Corspa nodded, and dragged Sammy away by his arm.  
"And stay away from the bar!" Jason added sharply. Judging by Sammy's scowl, that order had effectively ruined his planned 'mission' at the base.  
"C'mon, you." Jason nudged Kat. "Time to go meet Admiral Quinn, and give my Mea Culpa."  
"What for?"  
"I was supposed to meet him before I took control of the Fizzgig."  
"And you didn't?"  
Jason shrugged. "I was busy."  
"You didn't meet the head of Starfleet Operations because you were _busy_. Doing what?"  
"Getting drunk."  
"Ohh, I see."  
"Let's hope the admiral didn't."

* * *

"What in the blazes were you thinking?"  
"Sir…"  
"You missed an appointment to see me to go _bar-hopping_ with your friends, got drunk, pirated a Starfleet vessel…"  
"Sir, technically the Fizzgig _is_ my command."  
"Not until I've signed off on the orders, it isn't. That's treason, Lieutenant. Treason and piracy."  
"Sir…"  
"Let's see what the Starfleet protocols have to say about treason and piracy, shall we?" Admiral Quinn typed a command into his desk console, and read out loud. "Piracy…an act of which hasn't been committed in…well, it's been a long time, Lieutenant. The proper punishment is apparently to bring you back in leg irons and have you hung, drawn and quartered." He looked up at Jason. "Which would you prefer first?"  
"Well, Admiral, I'd prefer to be hung."  
Quinn stared at Jason through the holographic display his desk had put up. "Are you cracking wise with me, Mister?"  
"No, sir." Jason shook his head. "If I were hung before being drawn and quartered, I wouldn't feel it so much."  
"_Nice save_." Kat whispered to Jason. Quinn turned his attention on her. "What was that, Commander?"  
"Nothing, sir."  
"Let's hope it was nothing."  
"Aye, sir."  
Quinn nodded, and turned his attention back to his monitor. "Charges continue. Piracy of the USS Fizzgig…"  
"You read that one out already, sir." A voice from behind Jason and Kat chimed in helpfully.  
"Yes, thank you, Commander Winters." Quinn nodded. "Suborning, unknowingly, the crew of said USS Fizzgig in an unauthorised rescue operation, of the crew of the supply vessel USS Kebbell from Klingon raiders. Risking the lives of the crew of the USS Kebbell and USS Fizzgig in a highly unorthodox method of attack, and attacking a Klingon vessel without permission from Command to go Weapons Free." Quinn looked up. "Did I miss anything, Commander?"  
"You forgot the _actual _piracy, sir." Winters said, smugly.  
"Oh, yes. Dressing up like a pirate with the sole intention to confuse and disorient your first officer, Commander Katharine Hill."  
"Sir, that isn't _really_ a crime…"  
"Pirates aren't funny, Lieutenant."  
Jason bowed his head. "Sorry, Sir."  
"'Sorry, sir?' Is that all you have to say for yourself? 'Sorry, sir'?"  
"I'll…do better next time, sir?"  
Quinn tapped his desk. "I have a report from the captain of the Kebbell, here, Lieutenant. Do you know what it says?"  
"No, sir."  
"It says 'The captain of the USS Fizzgig put his life, and the lives of his crew, in jeopardy to attempt a rescue of us. The initiative shown by the crew of the Fizzgig and her captain are an inspiration. With more officers like this, we would win the war in six months."  
Jason couldn't stop smiling. Quinn noticed, and shook his head. "Normally, I'd be congratulating you on such inventive tactics, Lieutenant Whyrens. As it stands, the captain of the Fizzgig _does_ deserve recognition for his actions…but at the time of the rescue, the Fizzgig didn't _have_ a Captain. Not one recognised by Starfleet, at any rate. You could be court martialed for this."  
"Yes, sir."  
Quinn changed his display, and typed in a few commands. "I'm backdating this meeting 50 hours, Lieutenant. You met with me, on time, and took command of the Fizzgig as scheduled. You get a free pass on this one, Whyrens. But don't let it happen again, and don't dress up like a pirate when you're on duty."  
"I won't, sir. Thank you, sir."  
"That'll be all, Captain, I have another meeting in a minute with a Bolian Lieutenant Commander." Jason nodded, and he and Kat moved to the Turbolift. "Oh, and Captain?"  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Damn fine work rescuing the Kebbell. We've downloaded your tactical logs, and we'll be  
using the Whyrens Manoeuvre at the Academy."  
"Thank you, sir."  
As the Turbolift doors closed around Jason and Kat, Kat turned to smile at him. "Whyrens Manoeuvre? You're going to be _famous_!"  
"Oh, be quiet." Sammy grumbled, his smile killing any edge from his order.

* * *

"Ah, Captain, what a pleasure it is to meet you, at last." The Cardassian beamed at Jason. "Ghemik Telur, at your service. Tailor to Starfleet, and a willing ear for your troubles." Ghemik looked over Kat appraisingly. "And who is this lovely lady? Your consort, perhaps?"  
"_Commander_ Katharine Hill." Kat growled.  
"I wasn't aware they let such visions of beauty into service, Commander, my apologies." He turned his attention back to Jason. "I received your message about new uniforms, of course. What is it that I can help you with?"  
Jason pulled a Padd out from a pocket, and handed it to the tailor. "I'd like this registered as my ships uniform." Ghemik studied the Padd for a second, before smiling. "Yes, a classic design. But why go with a uniform so old?"  
"I have an old ship."  
The Cardassian nodded knowingly. "Your first command, then?"  
"It is."  
"Well, it's a good design, although a bit lacking, in some aspects."  
Jason paused. "The ship, or the uniform?"  
"Oh, the uniform, I assure you. What would I, just a humble and simple tailor, know about Starfleet classified information?"  
"Riiight. Anyway, Mr Ghemik, I'd like to make a few changes to the original design."  
"I live to serve, Captain."  
"The notes are all on that file."  
Ghemik nodded. "I'll get to work on this right away, Captain."

As the man started to ply his trade, Kat leaned over towards Jason, and whispered in his ear. "Captain, what 'classic design' did you have in mind?"  
"Oh, and oldie but a goodie."  
"Sir, using older uniforms when there are newer designs available to us…"  
"Commander, the Uniform Redesign act of 2386 says I can use any available design to outfit the crew under my command, doesn't it?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Then don't worry about it." He glanced to Ghemik. "Can we substitute a different material?"  
"Naturally, Captain!" The genial tailor held his arms open wide. "What would you like to use?"  
"Something light, that breathes."  
"My thoughts exactly." The tailor nodded, then went back to work.  
"What did you mean, 'look good in black'?"  
"You'll see."  
"I hate surprises."

After a few more minutes, the preliminary work was done, and Ghemik took scans of the two officers 'for proper fitting'. After they were completed, Ghemik turned his attention to his replicator, pressed a few buttons, and pulled out two brand new uniforms.  
"As I believe some of your people say, 'voila'!"  
Kat stared. "You must be kidding me."  
"Not at all." Jason replied easily. "Now take your clothes off and slip into something more comfortable."

* * *

Sammy and Corspa wandered the Base aimlessly.  
"!I'm so boorooed! Let's go to the bar."  
"Can't. Captain said not to."  
"Let's go check in with the Chief Engineer, and see how she's getting on with the re-fit."  
"She Commed us ten minutes ago, remember? She's back on the ship and the refits are complete."  
"Let's start a fight."  
"I'd have to help you out."  
"Let's go make out somewhere."  
Corspa grinned. "Okay."  
As they were about to head to a more secluded spot, something made Sammy look to his left. There, standing proudly, was Jason. Dressed in a variation of the older, late 23rd century Starfleet uniform but in black, with red collar, piping and belt, he smiled at the two junior officers. Commander Hill stood by his left side, dressed identically, but frowning slightly and rubbing her hands down her sides.  
"It's too tight."  
Jason turned to her. "I think you look great."  
"I'm telling you, I think that Cardassian made mine too tight on purpose. It's very…"  
"Becoming." Jason supplied.  
"Tight." Kat glared at him.  
"That's how they wore them, back in the day. Women wore tighter uniforms."  
"Why?"  
"Oh, come on, Kat. You have nothing to be ashamed of."  
"Says the man who wants to be hung."

Sammy goggled the pair. "What the _hell_ went on with you two?"  
Jason grinned. "A weird conversation with Admiral Quinn. Anyway, are you two behaving?"  
"Yes, Dad." Sammy smirked.  
"Good. We got you presents!"  
Corspa cooed. "I like presents!"  
"Not this one, you won't." Kat looked at her meaningfully, as Jason handed them both Replicator preset chips. "Get these ordered and put on. We've had the others beamed to the ship already, since we don't _have_ anything decent like Replicators on board."  
Sammy looked Jason up and down. "Is my uniform anything like yours?"  
Jason considered it. "Well, your has blue and not red."  
"It'll do, then. I bet I look better in my uniform than you do."  
Kat looked at Corspa wearily. "Men."

They made their way to the transporter, and Jason noticed the same Chief from their last visit was still on duty. He nodded to the man, who silently beamed them up to the Fizzgig.  
They had dematerialised and arrived back on the Fizzgig by the time the security personnel barged into the Starbase transporter room.  
"Where did they go?"  
"Who?"  
"The crew of the Fizzgig. Their Captain."  
"Sent them back to their ship." The chief said, surly.  
"Get them back here, instantly!"  
The chief checked his logs. "They've gone to warp, they could be halfway to Vulcan by now. Why?"  
"Their captain's under arrest."  
"What for?"  
"Murder."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"_Captains' Personal Log, Stardate 87725.2  
After refitting the Fizzgig with Quantum Torpedoes and a new Covariant shield array, I believe we are more capable of defending ourselves against a possible attack. Now that we know that the Klingons are starting to encroach on Federation territory, this means we can put up more of a fight in this war. My personal relations with the crew are growing, especially with my first officer. Commander Hill and I have gotten past our initial dislike of each other, and are slowly becoming good friends. I just wish that I knew why I have an almost uncontrollable belief that she's plotting some way of getting rid of me. Although I know it's ridiculous, some part of me has an innate distrust of her, bordering on fear. I only hope I can discover what this is, and find a way of getting past it. She deserves better than that."_

"So, you woke up, and...?" Kat snorted back a laugh. Jason sighed, and gestured towards his temples. "What you see here." He rubbed his fingers down his Trill markings. "Sammy's idea of a practical joke can, actually, have long-term side effects."  
"What did your lecturers say?"  
"When I showed up tattooed like a Trill one morning, for no apparent reason? They took the stance that, if I had several lifetimes of knowledge to draw on, I should have no problems in the classes, and pushed me harder." Jason shook his head. "Professor O'Brien was quite jovial about it. He said that with my accent and my Trill spots, I was like the son of his best friend and his dream girl. Never quite got the reference, but it amused him no end."  
"And was there a moral to the story?"  
"Ohh, yes. Never let Sammy try out anaesthesia on you when you're near a tattoo parlour."  
Kat laughed, and turned her attention back to her Padd. "I'll make a note of that after we're through with the staff appraisals."  
"Ah, yes. Join Starfleet. Seek out new life, and new civilisations. To boldly do paperwork."  
Kat batted at her Captain with her Padd. "You know it's important, Jay."  
"Yeah, but-"  
"Corspa to the Captain."  
Jay smiled at Kat. "Saved by the Stalks." He tapped his comm-badge. "Go ahead, Ensign."  
"Sir, we're being hailed."  
"By whom?"  
"Sir, they won't identify, but transponder codes indicate that it _is_ a Starfleet vessel. They're ordering we power down our weapons and shields, and drop to sublight speed."  
Jay blinked. "Are we going to be boarded?"  
"Possibly, sir."  
He glanced to Kat, who looked as mystified as he felt. "I'm on my way, Ensign. Don't do as they say. I want to speak to our uninvited guests." He rose, and stepped out onto the bridge, with Kat close behind. "Put these jokers on-screen, Ensign."  
"Aye sir."

There was a light chime, and Jason turned to look at the viewscreen. What he saw was... "What the hell is _that_?"  
Kat examined the ship, and squinted. "Classified Advanced Cruiser model, put into action just after the war broke out. Based on the old Prometheus class, with some additions along the Cerberus and the new Hephaestus models."  
Jay looked sideways at her. "Very good, Commander. Can you tell from here what it's called?"  
"That's easy, sir. It's the U.S.S Daikatana. NX 93398-B. Commanded by Admiral T'Valt."  
"_T'Valt_? That's _T'Valt_'s ship? Oh, you've got to be kidding me."  
"You know him sir?"  
"Vulcan with an attitude. He was a few years above me at the Academy. He was Science track, I was Tactical. We chased after the same medical student for two years, before Sammy put an end to it in his own way."  
"How?"  
"He kissed me in front of the girl. Drove her right into the arms of Mr Logic over there." Jason sighed, shook his head, and then stared at his Exec. "How do you know so much about that ship?"  
"That was the first ship I served on, Sir. Right out of the Academy, I was put to work doing...well, work on the Daikatana."  
"Classified work?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Care to tell me?"  
"No, sir, it's classified above your level of clearance."  
"Oh." Jason frowned. "We'll have to talk about my lack of clearance to know what you've been doing some other time." He turned to Jonas. "Hail the Daikatana."  
Jonas tapped his board. "No response, sir."  
"Fine, we'll do this the old fashioned way. Open a channel."  
"Aye, sir. Channel open."  
Jason glared at the screen. "T'Valt. Good to see you again, although your ship seems a little...overpowered. Still, there must be a good reason for it. Maybe you're lacking elsewhere?"

The viewscreen changed image, to show a blank faced Vulcan. "Cadet Whyrens."  
"_Captain_ Whyrens."  
"Regardless of your rank, you will still call me Sir." T'Valt turned his head up, so Jason could clearly see the Admiral pips on his collar.  
"Nice decor you have there, _Sir_." Jason mocked. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"  
"You will drop out of warp, and prepare to have a security team beamed aboard."  
"Why?"  
T'Valt didn't change his expression, but Jason swore he saw a faint hint of a sneer on his face. "To place you under arrest."  
"_What_? What's the charge?"  
T'Valt didn't answer right away. He shifted his gaze. "Commander Hill. It is good to see you again."  
"Thank you, Admiral." Kat seemed almost fawning, and Jason glared at her for it.  
"Might I have a word with you in private, Commander? I believe it the logical course of action to help you understand what is going on here."  
"Yes, of course, Admiral." Kat turned to her Captain. "May I use your Ready Room, sir?"  
Jason nodded, never taking his eyes off her. "Be my guest."  
T'Valt flashed off the screen, and Kat hurried into the Ready Room. Jason looked around, and noticed his crew studiously avoiding looking at him. "I think the crack about the size of his ship really got to him."  
Jonas, nodded, and looked over at him. "You really got under his skin, sir. That'll show him."  
"Damn right." He sighed, and sat down in his chair. "So, we're not doing anything. Anyone up for some I Spy?"

The Ready Room door hissed open, and Kat stepped out, visibly shaken.  
"Everything okay, Commander?" When she didn't look at him, Jason stood up, and moved towards her. "Kat?"  
She turned her gaze on him, her eyes full of hatred and rage. "You...bastard!" She grabbed her phaser, and pointed it at him.

Time seemed to slow down for Jason. Before he realised what was going on, Corspa was by his side, pointing a phaser at Kat. Jonas had turned around fully, staring in shock at what was going on. Jason couldn't blame him. He watched as Kat raised her hand to her comm-badge, and tapped it, not taking her hatred filled glare off him. "Security to the bridge. All hands to action stations. Prepare for an announcement from me within the next few minutes." She tapped it again, and gestured, with her phaser, for Jason to back up. Not understanding what was going on, he raised his hands and did as she implied. "Corspa, stand down." Kat glanced at the Ensign.  
"Not until you tell me what's going on, Sir."  
"Captain Whyrens is being placed under arrest. We're dropping to sublight, and we will co-operate fully with the Daikatana and her crew."  
The Turbolift opened, and two security members came out, phasers drawn. Kat looked over at them. "Arrest the Captain. He's being relieved of his command, pending a trial and possible execution."  
"_Execution_?" Jason spluttered. "We're _Starfleet_! We don't execute people, and certainly not for unidentified crimes."  
"The crime's _murder_. You killed three men, _Captain_, including one who's been positively identified as Cadet Jason Whyrens, serial 800T5-503-78A. I have reason to suspect you're an infiltrator for an invasion force. Surrender yourself now, or I'll be forced to shoot you."  
"This is ridiculous!" Jason looked around at his crew, who were staring at him in shock. "I'm Captain Jason Whyrens. This is my ship, _my_ command!" He glared at Kat. "I _knew_ you were going to try to find a way to take it from me, you..."

Jason never got the chance to finish his sentence, as Kat coolly fired her phaser at him, and darkness descended.

* * *

"She did _what_?" Sammy shouted in disbelief.  
"Shot Captain Jason." Corspa shook her head. "She was so confident, so sure of herself."  
"And what did you say the name of the Admiral was?"  
"T'Valt."  
"Oh. _Him._ I hate that guy. But why did the Commander listen to him? He's not an 'infiltrator', he's Jason. I've known him since we were nine! If anyone would notice him not acting like himself, it'd be me. Why didn't anyone ask if I'd noticed anything out of the ordinary?"  
Corspa shrugged, and leant against him. "I don't know, sweetie."  
Sammy gently nudged Corspa off his lap, and stood. "Computer, please give me the location of Commander Hill."  
"Unknown. There is no Commander Hill serving on this vessel."  
"What?"  
Corspa reached out, and took Sammy's hand. "Computer...please give me the location of _Captain_ Hill."  
"Captain Hill is in the Ready Room."  
Sammy stared at Corspa, who shrugged at him. "The Admiral made it official before I came off shift and left to find you."  
Sammy glanced at the chrono. "Came off shift? But you're not supposed to be off shift for another two hours."  
"Yeah. However, since I sided with the Captain, I was relieved of duty, and a replacement from the Daikatana's currently the chief of security."  
"I'm going to go and speak to Hill right now."  
"Sammy! You can't."  
"And why not?"  
Corspa looked down, and her antenna twitched in sadness. "I was told to tell you that. Because of your closeness with the Captain, you've been relieved, too. Pending a full investigation and trial of the Captain, to start tomorrow."  
Sammy laughed bitterly. "So, _Captain_ Hill has all her old crewmates running the ship. Sounds like Jay was right. He couldn't trust her."  
"What?"

Sammy told her about his best friends fears, and the message he had received on his quarters terminal.  
"So, now what do we do?"  
"Wait for the trial."

* * *

"Please state your name and rank for the record."  
"Captain Katharine Hill, USS Fizzgig."

I glared at my former first officer. I was just starting to like her, and then she accused me of killing...well, _me_, shot me, and took my ship. Although we'd only known each other for a short time, now, I thought we had begun to build a rapport, a sense of camaraderie, even a mutual flirtation of sorts. Obviously not.  
T'Valt continued, as placid as ever. "And please state, Captain Hill, your current assignment."  
I watched as Kat braced herself. "Chief Investigator into the alleged assassination and infiltration perpetrated by the individual I have come to know as Lieutenant Jason Whyrens, late of command, USS Fizzgig." She looked over at me, and I didn't know what she was feeling, by looking at her. Judging by her expression, she didn't know, herself.  
"Captain Hill. Have you made any headway with your investigation?"  
"No new information has come to light as of yet, sir."  
"Perhaps you will discuss with this court the information that you _are_ aware of."  
I tuned Kat...no, _Captain Hill_, out. '_I'll never call her _'Kat'_ again.' _I swore to myself, then gave myself pause. '_If I survive this_'. She was relaying how, approximately one and a half standard days ago, three bodies had been found. Two of them were still unidentified, but the third, after close examination, matched my body precisely. How precisely, I didn't know, as I hadn't been allowed out of the brig after Hill had shot me. Because of some apparent threat to the Federation coming from Shapeshifting assassins, Starfleet was taking this very seriously. Exactly what type of assassins, however, I had no idea. I hadn't had my blood screened, so it wasn't from Founders, and the only other shapeshifters I knew about came from the memoirs of Admiral McCoy, who claimed to have encountered a near-mythical Chameloid on Rura Penthe in the 23rd Century.  
"...Noticed any strange, or unusual behaviour, in the individual sat opposite you?" T'Valt was saying, shaking me out of my thoughts.  
"Yes, sir." Hill paused, and T'Valt noticed. "Captain, if the individual in question is an Undine infiltrator, unmasking it is a service to the Fleet, not a betrayal. To believe otherwise is not logical."  
Undine? What the hell's an _Undine_? I winced as a sudden sharp headache rolled through me, and was then gone.  
"Yes, sir." Hill had continued. "There have been times when I believed that Captain Whyrens was poised to strike at me, sir."  
_What?_  
"What?" I blurted out. T'Valt looked at me. "The accused will remain silent at this time."  
I frowned, but did as I was told. The _last _time I had spoken out of turn, T'Valt had ordered me taken away for an hour, where I was...well, Starfleet states it doesn't believe in torture, but I'll never look at my Starfleet insignia again without remembering what was done to me in the name of 'justice'.  
"We were in the Ready Room, discussing an investigation into a faulty door-panel that had shocked him." Hill said. "I mentioned that it was a freak accident, and he just gave me a...look."  
I would have waited for my arbiter to chime in with an Objection...but I had none. No lawyer, no chance to defend myself...just the facts being mentioned. No matter how inconsequential, and anyway, _what_ look?  
"Could you elaborate on what sort of look, Captain?" Another Admiral on the tribunal asked. Naturally, T'Valt wouldn't have thought to ask a question like that.  
"It was...unsettling. I can't describe it, not really, but it was like something was..._inside_ the Captain, watching me, waiting for me to show myself as vulnerable, so he could attack."  
"As if he were really an impersonator, and his disguise was slipping?" T'Valt prodded. I _really_ wish I could interject and point out he was leading Hill...  
"Sort of. More like...he was still the Captain, but there was something else, too."  
T'Valt waved his hand. "Inconsequential."  
The Admiral to his left turned to look at him. "T'Valt, you cannot blindly dismiss whichever evidence doesn't suit you."  
"My apologies, sir." T'Valt bowed his head slightly. "However, I put forth that Captain Hill's last statement is an emotional reaction...a vestige of hope that the individual on trial _is_ the being he claims he is."  
"_I _am the ranking officer here, T'Valt, and _I'll_ decide what is, and what isn't, an emotional reaction." Quinn stared down T'Valt.  
"Yes, sir."  
"Captain Hill, you are excused." Quinn nodded to her, and checked a Padd. "Next witness, please."

* * *

"...For the last time, no." Sammy shook his head. "I keep telling you, it has an H in it."  
"My apologies, Ensign." T'Valt made a correction. "Samuel Anthony Edwards."  
"Thank you."  
I sighed inwardly. In a case which was, quite literally, life and death, Sammy was intent to make it as difficult as possible.  
"Please state for the court your relationship with the accused."  
"For the last 15 years of my life, I have been the best friend of the 'accused'."  
"Such devotion to a friend is admirable, young man." Quinn stated. "Why've you been such close friends for so long? I can't even remember my best friends from when I was nine."  
Sammy took a deep breath. "I would prefer not to say, sir, on personal grounds."  
"Understood." Quinn looked at me. "Captain, would _you_ like to tell us why?"  
"This is immaterial." T'Valt scowled.  
"Admiral," Quinn said with what seemed to be forced patience. "If you're accusing this man of being an Infiltrator, it stands to reason, not to mention _logic_, that he would have focused on current events, and not something from so far back in the past." He looked back at Sammy. "Would it be fair to say that this is something rarely discussed, Ensign?"  
Sammy nodded silently, then took another breath. "We've never spoken about it in fifteen years, sir." He looked at me, imploringly. I knew he didn't want me to say anything, but I also knew that he wanted me to be proven innocent, and that he knew this would go a long way towards it.  
"Captain Whyrens, you will answer the question; Why are you and Ensign Edwards such good friends?"  
I looked, apologetically, to Sammy, then looked around. Corspa was there, looking confused. Hill also looked uncertain of herself, but I didn't care less what she thought.  
"When we were nine years old, Admiral, I discovered by accident that Sammy was being...abused...by his parents. I won't go into details about it, but needless to say, it was something no child should ever have to deal with. I told my own parents about it, and the local authorities took action. Sammy's parents were sentenced to psychiatric evaluation in an enclosed facility, with no rights to see or speak to Sammy until he turned 18 years of age.  
"I asked...demanded, really, that my parents take him in. They did, and Sammy's been my best friend and foster brother ever since. When we turned 18, rather than see his parents for the first time in nine years, Sammy and I both entered Starfleet. I did it because I wanted to explore the galaxy and make a difference. However, I'm sure that Sammy did it, at least in part, because he wanted to get as far away from the memory of what his parents did to him as possible." I looked over at Sammy, who was quietly crying to himself, yet still standing upright, proud, and strong. _I love you, man. And I'm sorry.  
_T'Valt continued, ignoring Sammy's discomfort. "Ensign Edwards, would it be fair to state that you would notice any changes in his personality?"  
Sammy stared at him, and wiped the tears from his face, seemingly taking a measure of comfort in Corspa, who was glaring at T'Valt so fiercely that he would have been dead, had her gaze been phasers. "Yes."  
"Have there been any?"  
Sammy paused, thinking. _What're you doing? Just tell the truth and I can go free!_  
"Well...about two years ago, when Jason was picked for the Command extension course at the Academy, he was gone for a period of a month. When he came back, he was a little different." Sammy shrugged at me. "However-"  
"Thank you, Ensign." T'Valt said over the top of whatever Sammy was going to say.  
"Can I finish?"  
"You have said all that I believe needs saying."  
Quinn shook his head. "Ensign, you may finish your line of thought."  
"Thank you, Admiral." Sammy shot a glare at T'Valt, earning a silent cheer from me. "However, I figured that it was the training. Jason soon returned to normal."  
T'Valt tapped a Padd, and studied it briefly. "Let it be shown that Cadet Whyrens was never selected for a course that would take him away from the Academy for any period of time, let alone a month."  
I stared, and cast my mind back. I had been picked for an academy course by one of my instructors, and I was told I would be gone for a long period. I remembered that, as clear as crystal. However...what was the instructors name? What did he look like? And why couldn't I remember anything about that month?  
My headache came back now, throbbing.

* * *

Admiral Quinn looked over at 'the accused'. He hated using that moniker. Everybody in Starfleet was a person, who had a name, and he never hesitated at using it. Whyrens was almost doubled over in pain, clutching at his temples. He stood up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. T'Valt whispered to him. "Sir, it may be an Undine trick."  
"And it may be someone in need of serious medical attention." He whispered back. "What did your men _do_ to him for the hour they dragged him away?"  
T'Valt didn't look apologetic. "Tried to get the truth from him. It was logical, all creatures succumb to pain."  
Quinn stared at his junior officer. "When this is over, we'll be having a talk about this, Admiral. And you won't enjoy it one bit." He looked over at Sammy. "Doctor, please see to your Captain."  
Sammy leapt over the small witness stand, and was at Jasons' side in an instant, medkit in hand. "Jason, can you hear me?"  
"Bravo...romeo...one." Jason mumbled.  
"What?"  
"What did he say?" Quinn stared.  
"Bravo Romeo One Sigma Golf One. X-Ray Uniform One!" Jason howled, and collapsed.  
T'Valt almost smiled in victory. "There. The stress is making it lose its' grip on our language. That was nonsense. It's clearly an Undine, and should be taken for interrogation or execution."  
"No." Quinn shook his head, turning white. "That wasn't nonsense." He looked around. "This court stands adjourned until further notice. Captain Whyrens is to receive full medical care from his quarters until such time I can speak to him privately. Everything you have seen or heard today is classified, people. Any mention of this to anyone will result in court martial and instant sentencing to a maximum security facility."  
Still troubled, he looked at T'Valt. "And, as for you, you're with me. We need to have that discussion that you won't enjoy one bit."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Jason awoke in the brig, with a pounding headache, and an uncontrollable thirst. Groaning, he reached out automatically, and found a glass of ice cold water. It was halfway to his lips when he realised that, for more than one reason, he shouldn't have been able to _do_ that.  
"You're awake then, Captain." A voice boomed out.  
"Shh." He winced. "Not so bloody loud."  
"Sorry." The voice didn't sound remotely sorry, nor did it sound any quieter. "I'm sure your headache will pass. Drink the water, that'll help."  
Jason did as he was told, doing his best to cast off the waves of pain and nausea that ran through his body whenever the voice spoke. Slowly sipping the water, he began to feel slightly better. He opened his eyes wider, and looked around. '_Still in the brig, then. What happened in the court?_' Looking around more, he saw the source of the voice that had caused him pain, mere seconds ago. "Admiral?"  
Quinn nodded. "You gave us all quite a scare, Jason."  
"Us all being everyone except Captain Hill and Admiral T'Valt, you mean?"  
Quinn smiled slightly. "Captain Hill is quite concerned about you. And Admiral T'Valt has…seen the errors of his ways. He won't be re-joining us, if the inquest continues."  
Jason blinked. "_If_ the inquest continues?"  
Quinn sat down opposite him, and rested his hands on his knees. "Captain, what's the last thing you remember from the court?"  
He cast his mind back. "I was telling you about Sammy's past with his parents, and then I woke up here." He paused. "Did Captain Hill shoot me again, or something? I feel like I've been Stunned."  
Quinn shook his head. "No, when I said she was quite concerned, I meant it. I've placed her on a temporary leave of absence, following her…well, she hasn't taken the last 48 hours well."  
'_48 hours?' _ "How long have I been out of things?"  
"Oh, nearly a full day." The Admiral said conversationally. "Time enough for me to call some of my friends in the Fleet, and make some inquiries, to confirm what I've suspected."  
"Which is?"  
Quinn looked at him sternly. "Captain, are you familiar with a group called The Cabal?"  
Jason was aware of getting to his feet, and then…

He woke up, in the brig again. Quinn remained in the position he was in before, but Sammy had appeared out of nowhere. "He's waking up, Admiral."  
"Good. I had a feeling this might happen." He sounded regretful.  
"Sorry, sir, I must have slipped and hit my head." Jason frowned. "You were going to tell me how long I'd been unconscious?"  
Quinn nodded. "As I suspected." He looked at Jason. "Captain, you were unconscious for a full day, and then, a little while ago, you passed out again for two hours. You have some sort of mental block over the time you don't recall. I said a particular word, and you attempted to attack me."  
"Attack you?" Jason was shocked. "Sir, I'd never…you can't believe I'm one of those Undine things."  
"Oh, I don't. Sadly for you, I believe you're something much, much more dangerous."  
"Uhh…like what?"  
Quinn gestured to Sammy, who approached his friend sadly, and hit him with a hypospray full of…something. "This'll help, Jay." He said softly, then moved away quickly. He and Quinn moved behind the brig entrance, and brought the forcefield up. "I'm sorry, Captain." Quinn said. "This is for your own good."  
"I'm not a danger to you, sir!"  
"No, but you're a danger to yourself. That's how Section 31 programmed you."

Jason froze. Part of him, a large part, was screaming at him to black out again, but something stopped him. '_The drugs, I suppose.'_ He thought to himself, distractedly. "I've never heard of Section 31, sir."  
"No? Then you don't remember screaming 'Bravo Romeo One, Sigma Golf One'?"  
"X-Ray Uniform One." Jason whispered. "What…what does that mean?"  
"Standard identifier code amongst Section 31 personnel. A cry for help from a deep cover operative in distress. Seemingly nonsensical code that means 'My life and my secrets are in danger. Help me'."  
"But…I'm not a deep cover anything." Jason pleaded with them, looking to Sammy. "Sammy, man, you've got to help me. I don't know what's going on. I've been accused of killing myself, of being an alien shape-shifter from Fluidic space, and now I'm a spy? I just want to go home."  
Sammy started to say something, then stopped, looking at Quinn, who nodded. "Jay-Mac…nobody said _anything_ about Fluidic space."  
Jason stared at his best friend. "Then how did I know that the Undine are from there? Before yesterday, I'd never_ heard_ of them."  
Quinn looked at him. "Captain Whyrens, please tell me everything you know about Species 8472."  
"Species 8472, also known as the Undine and the Groundskeepers. First encountered by the USS Voyager in 2373, after the Borg had discovered Fluidic space via Species 8470 and attempted to assimilate the Undine. Some time later…"

Jason continued to reel off information, by rote, about the Undine for some time after this. Then, Quinn moved him onto discussing the Omega molecule, and fleet actions for the last four years. All classified, all restricted information…and all pouring out of Jason like water.

When he'd finished, Jason sat back down, stunned. "What was that?"  
"That," Quinn provided, "Was partly what was done to you. Now, although I don't know the true identity of whoever was found killed on Earth, I think you do. Please tell me everything you know about Section 31."

Jason opened his mouth to protest, but different words came out. "Article 14, Section 31 of the United Earth Starfleet charter states that certain rules of conduct can be bent in times of extreme crisis. Based on this, the organisation known as Section 31 came into being. Founded in the 20th Century beginning at the encounter of three time travelling Ferengi at Roswell, New Mexico, it was ratified in the 22nd Century. Section 31 operates to protect the good of Starfleet and the Federation from attacks, both external and internal. When the Federation truly began, a similar group using the same name was created as an external and autonomous group of Starfleet Intelligence holding discretionary powers in non-specific matters. Operations of Section 31 include the assassination of old Earth president John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the kidnapping of the NX-01 Enterprises' CMO to assist the Klingons, the attempted sabotage of the Romulan Warp 7 test drive, the accidental destruction of Subspace in the Lantaru sector, the assassination of Klingon Chancellor Gorkon, the public discrediting of Romulan Senator Cretak, and the creation of a virus designed to wipe out the Founders. " Jason took a breath. "There is a group of people known to oppose Section 31, known as the Kirk Cabal. Started by then-Captain James Tiberius Kirk in 2268, the Kirk Cabal charged itself with identified and neutralising all elements and operatives of Section 31, which led to Operation: Intersect."  
Sammy blinked. "Intersect? What's that?"  
Jason frowned. "Operation Intersect is based on an old technological experiment from the early 21st century, specifically the intelligence agencies of the United States of America. Uploading all vital and pertinent information directly into an agents' mind, the true level of intelligence stored by such an agent would be hidden from all forms of torture and interrogation techniques, only coming to the surface when certain trigger words or stimuli are presented. First Section 31 work with Operation Intersect was carried out with Section Sub-Commander Sloane…"  
Quinn pondered this, and muttered to himself as Jason continued. "We always thought that there was some way that Section 31 agents were slipping past us."  
"We?" Sammy glanced at him.  
"The Cabal. I'm a member."  
"So, do you know how to help Jason?"  
Quinn shook his head. "I'm sorry, son. The only way we can help him is to find out who did this to him, and get them to reverse it."  
"That'll never happen."

Quinn and Sammy turned to look back at Jason, who looked at them with scorn. "You think you've detained me, and you're going to stop me?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "You have no idea what you're doing, old man."  
Quinn grimaced. "Who are you?"  
"Me? I'm Captain Jason Whyrens."  
"No, who are you? Are you an embedded personality?"  
"Maybe I'm the real personality, did you consider that, Jorel?" Jason stood, and walked towards the edge of the forcefield. "Maybe the idiot whom you've come to know as me is the fake personality, whilst I've been trapped in my body, watching him make mistake after mistake."  
"Like what?" Sammy asked.  
"Trusting that bitch, Hill, for one." Jason shook his head. "I told him not to trust her, but he was such a good pawn of Starfleet, he ignored me." He eyed Quinn. "She's part of your _Cabal_, isn't she, Jorel?"  
"That's classified information."  
"Oh, please. Doing secret work on the Daikatana? A ship that is mostly crewed by Cabal members, apart from that fool T'Valt? It's obvious who she works for. I knew had to get back to report that little tidbit to my superiors, so I arranged for my body to suffer a shock, allowing me access to the transceiver lodged in my cerebrum. Sadly, the other personality took control, and I couldn't do anything to warn my handler."  
Quinn shook his head. "I cannot believe you're the _real_ personality of Captain Whyrens."  
"He isn't." Sammy said, sadly. "I know my best friend. This isn't him."  
Jason laughed. "Oh, really? You know your best friend. You know everyone and everything, the proud, wise Doctor…and you're still that little boy crying in the night, waking up screaming because his daddy touched him."  
"Shut up."  
"The little boy who hides his pain behind humour and joking, never really sure where he fits in in this perfect world, because he was never shown love like normal people. You maladjusted _freak_. I took pity on you before, Edwards, and now that's all I can feel towards you. Pity." Jason shook his head. "You're pathetic."  
"Shut up!"  
Quinn put a hand on the Doctors shoulder. "Doctor Edwards, he's just trying to hurt you. He knows we can get him out of your friend, and he wants to prevent that, even if it means killing the host body."  
"Yes, _Sammy_, that's all I'm trying to do." Jason mocked. "Get rid of me. If you can."  
Sammy pushed his face up as close as he dared to the forcefield. "I will, you son of a bitch. I'll get my best friend back if it kills you. And I hope it does."  
"Try it, then." Jason stared at him defiantly.

* * *

I did the right thing.

I served on the Daikatana for months, earning my rise in rank. When I was approached by the ships XO about secret work for the good of the Federation, I said yes immediately. I didn't do it for honour or glory (and considering the nature of the job I did, I didn't get any, anyway) but because I've always prided myself on _doing the right thing_. If someone says to you 'You can do one thing which will make people's lives better, but nobody will ever know', you'd still do it. I know I did. And that one thing became two, which became three, and four, and…I lost count how many times I saved Federation lives and civilisation as we know it, on the whole. But it's a lot, believe me. The Kirk Cabal was doing good things, and putting things right where Section 31 meddled. We fought a dirty fight, and I learned how to do things that they never taught me at the academy. It made me a stronger person for it, tougher and less fragile, as I had to be when I was fighting a war against the enemy – when the enemy could be anyone and anywhere I looked.

Eventually, though, I had had enough of fighting the good fight, and I just wanted my life back. I was given my own ship, and save for a few missions here and there that helped out the Cabal, I was a regular officer, leading regular men and women on a regular starship. I didn't have to worry about preventing assassinations, and _did_ have to worry about routine deskwork. That's when I met Tahiri, who came onto the Fizzgig with me. Not a member of Section 31 or the Kirk Cabal, a regular officer, like I wanted to be, who became a good friend.

A good friend like Jason was turning into, before…well, you know what I found out. He was a murderer, an assassin, and somehow he'd taken the form of the _real_ Jason Whyrens. So, who was it down in the brig right now? An Undine? A Founder? An advanced scout for some unknown shape changing race, looking to destabilise things for their own end? I didn't know, and worse yet, the Cabal didn't know either. That worried me more. The Cabal had intelligence operatives everywhere, at every level of the Fleet, and with representatives from nearly every race in the Federation – for them to not know something of this magnitude…it honestly _frightened_ me. Worse yet, not only could _I_ not tell, neither could Doctor Edwards. The man who was the best friend of the person replaced by a shapeshifter, and he couldn't tell the two apart? No, that didn't make sense, unless _he_ was in on it, too.  
Also, Corspa can detect things outside of what humans can, including the bioelectrical field of non-human life forms. And Ensign Anson, with the VISOR, can too. Why didn't _they_ notice it? Another thing, too…if Jason _was _an infiltrator, why would he have done that practical joke with the pirates? Or encouraged joking about the size of the Fizzgig?

None of this added up at all. And why was Admiral Quinn down there with him now? _I_ was the investigator here, wasn't I?  
'_**Because**__,_' a little voice in my head told me, '_**You're emotionally compromised**__._'  
_Don't be stupid. I'm not compromised, I'm above that._  
'_**Are you so sure?**_'  
_Of course I'm sure. I'm better than that, stronger than it.  
'__**You spent a day investigating what happened on Earth, with the three bodies. Why didn't you go and **_**ask **_**Jason for his side of the story?**_'  
_He couldn't be trusted, that's why._  
'_**Are you sure**_** h**_**e was the one who couldn't be trusted, here**__?'_  
_What's that supposed to mean?_  
'_**You're the genius. Can't you figure it out?**_'  
I scowled at the voice, which was starting to sound more and more like Corspa.  
'_**You had a duty to perform, and you failed.**_'  
_How did I fail? I perceived a clear and immediate threat to the vessel and her crew. I apprehended the suspect using non-lethal means, and he's standing trial._  
'_**Not as an Officer, Katharine. You failed your duty as a **_**friend.**_** You owed it to Jason to find out the truth, from his point of view, and you didn't do it.**_'  
I sat down, hard_. Is that why I haven't gone to see him?  
__**'Let me ask you this – how do you feel about what you've done?'**__  
I did the right thing.  
'__**Did you? Did you **_**really**_**? You've just examined the evidence from the crew: you've seen how he acted around his fellow officers, around his closest friend, and around you. Can you honestly tell me you think he's a spy, or a murderer?**__'  
He acted strangely when I told him the doorpanel shock was an accident!  
'__**Don't make excuses. It wasn't an accident, and you know it. You lied to him – so maybe he was just detecting your lie.'  
**__But he had no reason to doubt me!  
'__**He thought you were after his command. And, the first chance you got, you shot him and took it, giving him **_**plenty **_**of reason to doubt you **_**now**_**, wouldn't you say?'  
**__Yes.  
'__**And don't evade the question. You're a spy, and you've met plenty of murderers. Do you think he's one of them? Has he shown any concrete, hard evidence to support the notion that he could kill in cold blood, and then carry on with life as normal?**__'__  
…No.  
'__**So. How do you feel?**__'  
_I drew my knees up to my chest, as I felt tears start to run down my cheeks.  
_Ashamed.  
'__**He put his trust, his faith, in you. And you shot him, without warning, instead of hearing him out. That's not what a good First Officer does, and not what a good friend does.**__'  
I know.  
'__**So. How're you going to fix it?**__'_

The voice left me alone after that, and I was grateful for it. But some part of me kept insisting that I did the right thing.

_Didn't I?_

_

* * *

_"Oh, look, the Pink Skin has a visitor." Captain Whyrens…Corspa couldn't bear to think of this _thing_ as 'Jason', crooned at her. "That _is_ what your people call my kind, isn't it? 'Pink Skin'?"  
Corspa shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I was raised to not use racial slurs."  
"Pity, I was so looking forward to some banter."  
"Whatever."  
Whyrens looked incredulous. "'_Whatever'_? Where's the respect due your Captain?"  
"You're not my Captain."  
"No? Don't you Andorians have a saying? '_A man is no more than the sum of his memories, a culture no more than the sum of its history'_? If a man is no more than the sum of his memories, and the memories I share with my…lesser personality are the same – indeed, I have more memories than him, as I recall my induction into Section 31 – then we are the same man. Unless, of course, your people are as flawed as they are ugly."  
Corspa raised an eyebrow. "Ah, attacking my personal image now?"  
"Whatever works, my dear." Whyrens smirked, then continued. "As I was saying, assuming the Andorian adage is true, then I _am_ your Captain, and should be afforded all due deference."  
"I can't imagine _my_ Captain using the term 'all due deference'."  
"He's squandered our intelligence, our keenly refined intellect, on trivial pursuits as…playing dress up on the bridge. Now, if _I_ had control of my body, as was my plan…well, anyone who hinted at piracy would have been fired out of the torpedo tube."  
"My Captain would never issue a threat like that."  
"He's weak." Corspa turned to leave, so Whyrens added, "Like your boyfriend's weak."  
Corspa turned around, slowly. "Oh, yes. I heard about what you said to Sammy when he was in here earlier."  
Whyrens grinned. "Doesn't that just make you mad?"  
"Furious."  
"So, little girl…what're you going to do about it?"

Corspa matched Whyrens' smile with one of her own, and lowered the forcefield.

Sammy grimaced as he inspected the unconscious form in front of him. Lacerations, bruising, a shattered nose, a dislocated shoulder, broken arm, four cracked ribs and a punctured lung. He looked up at the perpetrator of this violent act. "Remind me to never make you angry."  
"Just pick up your dirty socks after you, sweetheart." Corspa smiled sweetly.  
Sammy shook his head, and got to work repairing the extensive damage the head of security had inflicted on the body of his best friend. "What did he say to you to get you riled up, anyway?"  
"You don't need to know."  
He shook his head. "I need to know for the report."  
"Okay, you don't _want _to know."  
He snorted, and grabbed the protoplaser. "Whatever it was, you didn't have to go all Ushaan on him."  
Corspa merely smiled. "Hey, you're learning about my culture!"  
"Makes sense to, I don't want to offend you by giving you the wrong sort of gift for our anniversary."  
"We're going to have an anniversary?"  
"I…well…" Sammy concentrated on his work more, to prevent having to look up at Corspa.  
"Anyway, Captain Whyrens said some…un-nice things about you."  
"Ah." Sammy finished up his work. "You didn't have to defend me."  
"I know. I wanted to."  
Sammy looked up at her. "Well…thank you. But I could have done this to him myself."  
Corspa snickered. "Yeah, right."  
"I could have!"  
"Uh-huh."  
He shook his head, and nodded to the security guards. "Right, I'm going to revive him. Stand ready."  
When he saw the guards had levelled their phasers at the motionless body, Sammy pressed a hypo against Whyrens' neck, and injected him.  
"Well…that was certainly a new experience." Whyrens said, opening his eyes. "I've never been quite so thoroughly pummelled by a girl before."  
"Woman." Sammy corrected.  
Whyrens grinned up at him. "All fixed, Doctor?"  
"Yes. You can return to your cell, now, _Captain._"  
Whyrens sat up, and allowed himself to be restrained at the wrists. "Very good. I'm pleased to see that _someone_ here," He shot a dirty look at Corspa, "Still retains the respect for his Captain." Seeing the Andorian shake her head in disgust, Whyrens continued. "I am, after all, the king of this community."  
"Deposed king, perhaps." Corspa couldn't stop herself.  
"A deposed king is still a king, Ensign. Bereft of his crown, he still has his noble bearing and command of his men. And women." He added as an afterthought. "You know, maybe I'll spare your life after all, when I destroy this ship to hide the evidence that I'm here. Section 31 could use someone with your fists."  
"Never. I'll take my chances on the Fizzgig."  
"So be it, then." He tested the manacles, found them to be depressingly secure, then nodded at his guards. "Well, come on then, Nameless Drones. Let's go join an Away Team so you can be brutally murdered and I can escape."

The guards escorted him out of Sickbay, and down the hall towards the brig. As they were passing the shuttlebay doors, Captain Hill caught up with them. "_Jason_? Wait!"  
Whyrens eyes went wide, as he saw the physical state of the woman who had shot him. '_Red eyes, pinkish nose…she's been crying. About me? How touching.'  
_"I'd like a moment with the Captain, men." She was saying to the guards.  
"Just one moment, then, Captain." The burlier of the guards stated, as they stepped a few feet away, to give them privacy.  
"Oh, Jay, I'm so sorry. I should never have doubted you. I can't believe you're a murderer."  
"Kat…" He whispered back. "They…they found me guilty."  
"What?"  
Whyrens nodded sadly. "There wasn't enough evidence to contradict what you'd said in court, so they found me guilty, and they're taking me to….to be executed."  
"No! No, they can't!"  
The guards stepped back into position. "We have to go now, ma'am."  
"You can't take him! I order you to let him go."  
The other guard looked sorry. "Ma'am, our orders come from Admiral Quinn himself."  
He pushed Whyrens gently in the back. "Let's go."  
Whyrens hung his head, until they disappeared around a corner from Kat. Then, he allowed himself one tiny smile, as he heard the sobbing start.


	7. Chapter 7

_Authors notes: Ain't he a bastard? I confess, my storytelling seems to go along the route of "Okay, new chapter, what absolute _hell_ can I put my characters through?" and Captain Whyrens does enough damage without having to inflict the Borg on everyone. It's strange to think that, in a story based on an MMO that's mostly shooting and attacking aliens, we've only actually had __**one**__ space combat scene. We're starting to approach the end of this particular story, and I'm starting to brew ideas for the next one. Anyway, here we go…_

**Chapter Seven**

Admiral Jorel Quinn was in Sickbay moments after Captain Whyrens had left.  
"So, you took the scans."  
"Yes, sir." Sammy nodded. "I think I managed to find the transceiver he told us about. I just have to upload the scans to a holo-projector, and that'll give us a much better look at the thing."  
"So, what's stopping you?"  
"The ship doesn't have any holo-projectors, sir. It's older than a member of the Vulcan High Council."  
Quinn frowned. "I see. Why not use one on the Daikatana? Or, get them to transport one over?"  
Sammy blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."  
A chuckle came from behind them. They turned, to see Corspa leaning against a wall, one foot resting on it. "That's my man. Cute, but no brains."  
Sammy mock-glowered at her, then tapped his Comm-badge. "Doctor Edwards to Daikatana."  
"Daikatana, Chief Terra here."  
"Chief, I'd like you to send over a medical-grade Holo-Projector to the Fizzgig."  
"For what purpose?"  
Sammy looked, bewildered, over to Quinn, who smiled slightly, and shrugged, pulling out a Padd and tapping at it, looking for something. "It's for a medical diagnostic."  
"Sorry, Doctor, all our medical Holos are tied up." There was a brief pause. "Are you the same Edwards who sat in the third row during the Doctors' class on Xenomorphic Exobiology two semesters ago?"  
"Err….yes."  
"Then you definitely won't see any Holo-Projectors. I sat behind you in that course, as part of my field-medic extension, and I don't think that an important piece of technology like that should be used as it was in that class to, if memory serves, create a four foot, three dimensional, full colour replica of your-"  
"Chief, this is Admiral Jorel Quinn."  
"Yes, sir!" Sammy moved away from Quinn, and caught the curious look on Corspa's face. "Later." He whispered to her.  
"I hope so." She whispered back, with a wink.  
"Chief, we need that Holo-Projector." Quinn examined his Padd. "It's for Protocol Gamma Four Epsilon."  
"Yes, sir, confirmed Gamma Four Epsilon. I'll get a Projector to you, right away!"

A few seconds later, a holo-projector appeared on top of the medical scanner. Quinn gestured towards it. "There you go, Doctor. One Medical grade projector. _Do_ try not to scan any parts of your own anatomy."  
"Yes, sir." Sammy felt his cheeks get hot. He opened his mouth to say more, when the door hissed open, and Kat burst into the room, in tears.  
"Captain Hill!" Quinn was stunned. "What's wrong?"  
"You can't kill him!"  
"What?"  
"Jason, you can't kill him. He's innocent!"  
The three other officers stared at her. "Kat," Corspa ventured. "Didn't anyone tell you what's been going on?"  
"Jason did! He said he was going to be executed, because nobody could prove he's not a murderer. But I know he isn't, he's a good man!"  
Corspa stared at her in shock, then turned to face the Admiral and Sammy. "She doesn't know."  
"Know what?"  
Quinn patted the chair closest to him. "Sit down, Captain. This might take some time…"

As Sammy fiddled with his scans and Quinn told Katharine all that had transpired with Jason, Corspa studied her face carefully. She had gotten to be quite adept at reading facial expressions and body language in humanoid life-forms, and something she saw there, in her acting Captain, proved to be quite interesting. '_Later,_' she chided herself. '_It may be nothing, anyway. Even if it IS something, we may never get Captain Jason back.'  
_"So…you're not going to kill him?" Kat looked confused.  
"Certainly not. We're attempting to remove the Section 31 personality, yes, but without harming the original personality of Jason Whyrens."  
"He played me." Kat growled. "He saw I was in pain, and he played me, for no reason other than to hurt me."  
"Or…" Corspa said, thoughtfully. "Maybe he thought he could get you so over-emotional and wracked with guilt, you'd try to free him."  
Sammy looked up. "Why would he think that would work? I mean, no offence, Captain, but you and Jay aren't that close." He turned his attention back to his scan, missing the meaningful glance that Corspa gave her, or her blush in response.  
"I'll kill him." She banged her fists against the desktop. "I'l l break his legs and let him crawl for his life."  
"Been there, done that." Corspa shook her head. "You humans are so fragile." She sighed contentedly. "The question should be, now, what are we going to do?"  
"Ah-hah!" Sammy shouted, pressing a button on the Holo-Projector. A bluish image flickered to life above their heads, an ovaloid disk with a tiny wire coiling out of it, and a green flashing light on the upper part of the body.  
"What's that?"  
"Subspace Transceiver." Sammy gestured towards it. "A very advanced work, too. Way beyond my capabilities to understand."  
Quinn shrugged at him. "You're a doctor, not an engineer." He turned to Kat. "Who do we have in engineering we can trust absolutely?"  
"Tahiri, the Chief."  
"Get her up here, Captain, and I'll get some of the engineering team from the Daikatana to assist." Quinn pointed at the hologram. "We need to find out how this thing works."

Tahiri and four of the Daikatana engineers went to work examining the Holo, as well as sensory scans that Sammy took, and asking him endless questions about placement, frequencies being used, and other things Sammy had no idea on. When the Engineers saw that he had fulfilled his usefulness, they roundly ignored him and discussed, amongst themselves, the potential secondary uses of the transceiver.

Sammy joined Corspa, Kat, and Quinn in his office, where they were discussing something in low tones.  
"…Quite plausible, but it'll hurt."  
"I'll worry about that, Kat, you just stick to the plan."  
"What plan?" Sammy asked loudly, dropping into his chair. The three others looked up guiltily. "Sorry." He lowered his voice. "What plan?"  
"To restrain Captain Whyrens."  
"He's restrained now. In the brig."  
Quinn shook his head. "Restrained, as in 'prepare him for emergency surgery to remove the transceiver', Doctor."  
Sammy shrugged. "We walk into the Brig, lower the forcefield, Stun him, and take him to Sickbay."  
"And if he can trigger some sort of self-destruct in the implant?"  
"He'll die, we'll get Jay back." Sammy managed to smile. "Win/Win for the good guys."  
"Uhm, no, dear. He'll detonate the device, which will destroy most of his brain, and kill Jay. Win for the bad guys, lose for us." Corspa shook her head. "What're his faults, what're his flaws?"  
"He's a bastard."  
Corspa looked admonishingly at her boyfriend. "I mean, that we can exploit." She cast her mind back. "When I was talking to him, he was more…what's the word?"  
"More like a bastard?"  
Corspa smacked Sammy in the stomach lightly. "He seemed overly keen to show off his intellect. His mind. He was fond of florid, polysyllabic nomenclature."  
"Huh?"  
"Big words, Sammy. Bad man like use big words, he look smart to us. We use this, bad man go down."  
"Ohh, I see."  
Kat sighed. "I need to fix this."  
"What?"  
She stood. "If it wasn't for me, this personality wouldn't have come out in the open." She looked at Corspa. "Are you sure this plan'll work?"  
"Yes. But the longer we wait, the more obvious it'll seem to be a trap."  
"Well, then. Let's do it."

* * *

Captain Whyrens was a patient man. He didn't know if it was something he was born with, or gained later, when he joined Section 31, but he knew how to wait. No doubt Quinn and the idiot Sammy were cooking something up, but he'd taken Captain Hill out of commission, and she was the only one who scared him. '_She's brilliant_'. He mused. '_It's just a pity I'll have to kill her, either when the ship blows up, or before, in person. Such a waste._'  
The door to the brig hissed open, and Hill came barging in. Her hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, was set free, her eyes were still wet with tears, she had a phaser rifle slung under each shoulder, and her uniform was torn. Affecting the innocent, naïve expression of Jason, Whyrens stared at her.  
"Kat? What's going on?"  
In response, she hefted the phaser rifle on her right side, and shot the control panel, making it spark, and shutting down the forcefield holding him captive.  
"Kat?"  
"C'mon, Jay, I'm getting you out of here."  
Whyrens smiled at her. "Thank you, Kat."  
She moved towards him, and kissed him tenderly on the lips, running a hand over his neck. "Thank me later, when we've gotten to a Runabout. We have to hurry, before…"  
"Going somewhere, Captain?" Another voice chimed in. Kat spun around, to come face to face with Corspa.  
"Out of my way, Ensign. That's an order."  
"You heard the Admiral, Ma'am. Captain Whyrens is to go back to Spacedock for psychiatric evaluation."  
"Over my dead body."  
"I'd rather it didn't come to that, Ma'am. Stunned body, sure, but nobody has to die here, today."  
"Shows what you know, Ensign." Whyrens grabbed the rifle from Kats' nearest side, her left, and fired it at the security chief. She collapsed in a heap, a look of shock on her face.  
"Jay! You didn't have to do that."  
He blinked. '_Oh, right. I'm supposed to be stupid._' "I'm sorry, Kat, but…it was her or you, and I'd pick you every time."  
Kat nodded. "I suppose you're right." She lifted her arm, allowing Jason to unloop the strap, and take the phaser rifle he held away from her. "Come on, I've put up forcefields to block anyone from stopping us getting to the shuttlebay."  
He smiled. "You're good."  
"You know it." She smiled back, and moved to Corspa. Eyeing her, she reared back, and kicked her in the stomach, as hard as she could. "You don't _threaten_ the Captain." She looked up, smiling at Whyrens, who was staring at her. "Sorry, but I really didn't like her."  
Whyrens nodded in understanding. "Shall we get the hell out of here?"  
"After you."

They ran down the corridor, before stopping in front of the shuttlebay door. "Here we are." Kat smiled. "I've prepped the Wanderer for launch. All we have to do is get on board, and-"  
"Blah, blah, blah." Whyrens smirked, levelling the rifle at her.  
"Jay? What're you doing?"  
"What does it look like? I'm killing you. Thank you so much for _everything_, Captain Bitch. You killed Corspa, you set me free. I knew I could play you."  
"Jay…I don't…I love you."  
"Sorry." He aimed the phaser rifle at her, and fired.

Running into the shuttlebay, he eyed the names of the Runabouts. When he saw the Wanderer, he ran up to it, and slapped the entry button on the side. The hatch lowered, and he darted inside. Sitting down in the pilot's seat, he rested the phaser rifle on the console next to him, within easy reach.  
He heard a faint 'fwunt' coming from behind him. Turning around, he saw nothing. '_However…_' "Computer."  
"Working."  
"How many life-signs are aboard this vessel?"  
"One life-sign detected."  
Whyrens shook his head. "Must have been my imagination." He pressed a few buttons, and grinned. "Computer, open the shuttlebay doors and prepare for departure."  
"Not likely."

It took a moment for Jason to realise that wasn't the computers voice. He tried to spin in his chair, to grab the phaser rifle, but…nothing. He was completely immobile. Someone spun his chair around for him, and in his line of sight was Sammy, and Admiral Quinn…and Corspa, and Hill.  
"You're probably wondering why we're alive." Corspa smirked. "The phaser you took was heavily underpowered. We made sure the one closest to you when I came in would be. Don't try to move, Sammy shot you with a dart that shut down your higher functions. You can probably only just understand me…but it means you can't trigger any self-destruct your implant has." She turned to Hill. "That kick _really_ hurt, you know. You're like a mule."  
"Sorry." Hill shook her head, then knelt in close to Whyrens. "I'm sorry, Jay. If you're in there, please know that I'm only doing this to save you. When you wake up, you'll be you again, and not this…_thing_. And, if you don't wake up…" She took a deep breath, and whispered close in his ear.  
"I wanted you to know, I think I may have meant what I said outside the shuttlebay." She stood up, straightened her uniform one handed, and nodded at Sammy, holding out her other hand. "When's this anaesthetic going to wear off? My hand's completely numb."  
Sammy shrugged. "Five to ten minutes. Good work getting it on the back of his neck. How'd you manage it?"  
Kat blushed, but didn't say anything. "Okaaaaay…" Sammy continued, eyeing her suspiciously. He turned to Whyrens. "You're going to go to sleep, now, and hopefully, we'll never see you again.

"We win."

Whyrens saw Sammy lean in, heard a faint hiss, and then…knew nothing.

* * *

It was two days later. Whyrens was in a medically induced coma, monitored around the clock by medical personnel, and a security detail from the Daikatana. Sammy had been up for 35 straight hours, trying to figure out who'd created the implant stuck in Jason's brain, and was no closer to solving the puzzle.  
He kicked back from his chair, scowling, and felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, starting to massage him gently.  
"Mmm, that's nice, babe."  
"Thanks." He heard the smile in Corspa's voice, and smiled back, knowing she could probably see it in his monitor reflection. "No progress?"  
"None. There are elements to this that are _familiar_, but I just can't place how."  
"You should have paid more attention in class."  
"Yeah…" He drifted off. "Class." He leaned back and looked up, and stared at the blue, upside down face above him.  
"What?"  
"Well, for one thing, I can see right up your nose. And, for another…I need to call a doctor."  
"Sammy, you _are_ a Doctor."  
"No, no. I'm an idiot." He slapped his forehead with his hand.  
"Doctor…Facepalm?"  
Sammy started laughing.  
"Uhm…honey? Maybe you've been awake too long. That joke wasn't that funny."  
"No, don't you see? Science and engineering, combined into one tiny unit. We need to go to Galor Four."  
"What's at Galor Four?"  
Sammy grinned. "The Daystrom Institute annex." He tapped his comm-badge. "Edwards to the bridge."  
"Hill here, Doctor. What do you need?"  
"We need to get to Galor IV, as fast as possible. And I need a channel open to the Soong Foundation."  
"Why?"  
"I think I know someone who can help us, but we need to go there."  
"Can't this person come to here, instead? It'll be faster."  
Sammy laughed. "Trust me, on a ship this old, this particular Doctor can't make house-calls."

"Hello?"  
"Doctor, this is…"  
"Yes, I know who you are, Doctor Edwards." The balding man frowned at him. "Your 'pranks' in my class at the academy weren't well received, you know. I had half a mind to fail you on the spot. Frankly, I'm amazed you graduated, let alone passed your final exam to become a real Doctor."  
"Doctor, I need your help."  
"_My_ help, you say? Surely a doctor as _brilliant_ as yourself can figure out how to tie their own shoelaces without wasting _my_ time."  
Sammy sighed. "Doctor, please."  
"Oh, very well." The EMH shook his head. "Since you said 'please'. It's nice to hear a Starfleet officer being courteous to me, even if he _does_ want something in return. It's the way my life seems to go, as of late."  
"The courtcase not going well?"  
"You read the reports, I take it?"  
Sammy nodded, and the Doctor looked at him slyly. "Well, let that be a lesson for me. Even a brilliant being as myself can be shocked."  
"Thank you, Doct-"  
"I didn't know you could read."  
Sammy scowled. "Doctor, I'm sending you a holo-image I'd like you to take a look at."  
"This isn't the same one you made in my Xenomorphic Exobiology seminar, is it?"  
"No, sir."  
"Good." He studied the sent file intently for a few seconds. "Ah, yes, this."  
"You know what it is?"  
"Of course I do. I designed it as a medical practitioners aid."  
"Doctor, we've come across a serious bastardisation of your work, and I'd like your help in fixing it. We're on our way, but we're 40 hours away from the Galor system."  
The Doctor blinked. "Are you coming by rowboat?"  
"No, sir. Miranda Class vessel."  
"Ah. Well, then, I'll see you in 40 hours, if you haven't died of old age, first."  
The Doctor shut off the communication.  
"What a nice man." Sammy said to himself, shaking his head.

* * *

_First Officers personal log, Stardate __87737.8  
We're approximately 12 hours out of the Galor system, where Sammy assures me that the Mark One EMH from Voyager will be able to help us with our situation with Jason. I'm not too sure about this, myself. I've never trusted the Emergency Medicals, and utilising a Mark One seems like trying to fix a power conduit with a screwdriver. We have to be careful, as well. If the EMH designed this…thing in Jasons' head, it's programming may have been corrupted by Section 31. Or maybe it's always worked that way, programmed to be the ultimate spy, and undetectable by The Cabal because we never thought to look…  
I'm going crazy. Paranoid. An EMH can't harm humans like this, it's against every iota of their core programming, not even a minor subroutine could let them hurt someone. I can't seem to concentrate. I can't remember when I got any decent sleep, but I think it was before Jay got shocked by his door. That was the night of the party, so the night before that…no, I was giving Jason the tour and reviewing notes. I haven't had ANY sleep since he came aboard. Meanwhile, he's sleeping like a baby…no, that isn't fair. It's not his fault that he was made like this. If I ever find out who did this to him, I'll –_

The door chimed. Kat frowned. "Computer, end log recording."  
"Log ended."  
"Come in!"  
The door hissed open, and Corspa stood in the doorway, holding two mugs of what Kat assumed, from the smell, was fresh coffee. "Can I come in?"  
"Please." Kat smiled at her friend, who held one of the cups aloft. "For me?"  
"I checked with the chef, and he said you usually ordered this exact blend at this exact sweetness. Says you're a stickler for fine detail."  
"Did he?"  
"Well, he said you were an anal retentive pain in the neck, but I read between the lines." She smiled, and sat down opposite the interim Captain. "You okay?"  
"I'm tired. I just realised I hadn't gotten any sleep since you, Sammy, and Jason got here."  
"We're party animals." Corspa smiled sadly. "It was Captain Jason I was talking about, though."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm good at reading people. The psychology course."  
"I remember." Kat nodded.  
"And…well…we're off-duty, right?"  
"Right."  
"Well…right, then." Corspa took a deep breath. "Do you have feelings for Jason?"  
She could have heard the small window of vulnerability slamming shut from Kat, who frowned. "The Captain's a fine officer."  
"That isn't what I meant."  
"You don't fall in love with someone after two days."  
"I didn't say 'love', Kat, I said 'feelings'."  
"I don't love him."  
"I never said you did."  
"Good."  
Corspa watched her friend carefully. "You did, though."  
"What?"  
She looked at Kat sadly. "I have pretty good hearing, and I was tailing you two on your run to the shuttlebay. And then I heard what you said to him after we'd incapacitated Captain Whyrens. You think you're falling in love with him."  
"After two days?"  
Corspa snorted. "I loved Sammy after two shots of whiskey."  
Kat tried to smile. "Yes, but now that I know Sammy, I can understand why you'd have to be drunk, first."  
"Hey!" Corspa laughed, then shook her head. "You missed a trick going into Command and not staying a Security officer, you know."  
"Why's that?"  
"You're good at evading and dodging." She smirked. "Answer the question."  
Kat sighed. "Just between us two?"  
"Always."  
"I think I could _grow_ to love him. But there's problems."  
"Ignoring that fact that his consciousness is currently trapped in his body whilst a homicidal maniac is inhabiting it…like what?"  
"Firstly, he's the Captain, and I'm the First Officer."  
"Secret romances can be fun."  
"It'd impair his judgement. Or mine. If I get trapped under enemy fire, I don't want him risking every life on the ship by flying in to rescue me."  
"Yes, you do."  
"What?"  
Corspa raised her hands in the universal gesture of 'hear me out'. "I think I've gotten to know you pretty well, the last few days. Plus, I'm good at observing people and reading body language. You're a romantic, and you may not want to be the damsel in distress, but you also want to have that white knight riding in to save you if you get in trouble."  
Kat shook her head. "I'm not saying you're right, but I can't have 198 deaths on my conscience."  
"Okay. What else?"  
"He can be very…immature."  
Corspa grinned at her. "If he were here to hear this, he'd object at being called a child again."  
"But who else dresses up like a pirate on the bridge of their own ship?"  
"A free spirit. And he's not always immature, what about that trick he did with the torpedoes?"  
"Okay," Kat admitted. "That was impressive."  
"Right! He just needs someone to guide him, help him. He might be the Captain, but he's also only just graduated the Academy."  
"What happens if we get together and break up? What'd that do for the morale of the ship?" Kat blinked. "What if he doesn't _want_ to get together? What if-"  
"What if he wakes up on Galor and realises he's actually a Tribble in disguise?" Corspa shook her head. "Stop overanalysing."  
"I'm just…I'm not used to not being in control."  
Corspa raised an eyebrow. "Maybe Jason wants you to be in control."  
Kat looked mortified, then tried to hold a laugh in. When it failed, she roared, a laugh that threatened to wake her neighbours. Corspa joined in, and when they'd finished, Kat felt a lot lighter than she could remember. "Thanks."  
"Any time. So, what're you going to do?"  
Kat pondered this for a second, then nodded to herself. "When he wakes up…and that's _when_, not _if_…I'm going to tell him how I feel. "  
Corspa smiled. "Good for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to get some sleep."  
"Me too." Kat smiled. "Me, too."

* * *

"Ah, Galor. The system so crappy they named it after a Cardassian myth."  
"Huh?"  
Ensign Jonas turned to face Sammy. "Galor. He was a mythological Cardassian warrior."  
"Oh." Sammy thought about this for a second. "What did he do?"  
"Something Cardassiany. Probably killed a million Bajorans, betrayed his loved ones and drank some Kanar." Jonas shrugged.  
The Turbolift door slid open, and Kat came out, nodding to Jonas. "Ensign, Doctor. In the words of our immortal Captain…'are we there yet'?"  
Jonas chuckled, and nodded. "Aye, Captain."  
"Captain, you're looking well."  
"Thank you, Doctor."  
"Better than I've seen you in days, in fact."  
Kat looked at him oddly. "Thank you, Doctor."  
Sammy leaned in close, and whispered. "My best friend's a lucky man."  
Kat stared. "Doctor…"  
Sammy grinned. "Just taking a wild guess. But I'm pretty sure he likes you, too."  
Kat cleared her throat, and nodded to Corspa. "Open a channel to the Soon Foundation, to Doctor…." She turned to look at Sammy, who shrugged. "He never chose a name. He's just the Doctor."  
"Right. Open a channel to…the Doctor."  
"Aye, Ma'am."

The viewscreen changed from a view of a planet, to show a balding, scowling man in a very old fashioned Starfleet uniform, under a white flowing lab coat. "This is The Doctor speaking, and…Oh. Doctor Edwards. You made it in one piece, then."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Good. I'd hate to think you travelled all that way in a flying bathtub and died. I'm expecting you and your party, and await your arrival." The viewscreen shut off.  
Kat turned to Sammy. "It doesn't have a particularly good bedside manner, I'm guessing?"  
Sammy smiled. "Actually, that was quite warm, for him. He just…doesn't really like Starfleet."  
"Oh."  
"We should get going, he hates to be kept waiting."

* * *

Kat looked around the facility, where she, Sammy, and Corspa had been kept waiting for four hours. "Hates to be kept waiting, huh?"  
Sammy shrugged. "Something else probably came up. It's no big deal, he said he'd be with us, so he will be."  
"It."  
"What?"  
Kat shook her head. "_He_ is an _it_."  
"No, he's a _he_." Sammy leaned back, eyed closed, then slowly opened one eye, which turned to look at Hill. "Captain…are you a racist?"  
"_What?_" Kat spluttered. "Certainly not."  
"No shame in it."  
"Yes, there is." Kat looked shocked. "If I were accused of racism, I could be dismissed from the service!" She shook her head, then paused. "Why is it that if I assert the Doctor is an 'it', it's racism?"  
"You're discriminating against someone because of who they are, where they're from. That's racism."  
"No, that's me being able to tell a shuttle pilot from a shuttle-pod." She sighed. "Sammy, I understand it wants to improve itself, and has done so, but it's still a hologram. I can shut it off any time I choose."  
"Given the right hypospray, I could shut _you_ off any time I choose, too."  
Kat shook her head. "It's not a real person."  
"Thank you, Captain, for reminding me why I dislike Starfleet."  
Kats' head spun round, to stare at the Hologram from the viewscreen some hours prior. Sammy stood up, and nodded to it. "Doctor."  
"Doctor Edwards. Who're your…friends?"  
"This is Captain Katharine Hill, of the USS Fizzgig." He gestured to Corspa. "And this is Ensign Corspa, chief of security."  
"It's nice to meet you, Doctor." Corspa smiled.  
"Thank you, Ensign, it's very nice to meet _you_, as well." The Doctor glared at Kat, as if to let her know that it wasn't nice at all to meet _her_. "Well, come into my lab, and tell me about this bastardisation of my work."

"…And now, he's in a medical coma on our ship."  
The Doctor nodded. "I see. Well, Ensign, I can't say I blame you. The device wasn't originally designed for subterfuge, but as a medical device. If this Section 31 of yours has co-opted it, that could be a danger."  
"Why?" Kat asked.  
"It was designed to primarily access medical knowledge through a subspace network, and be used for very short periods of time. Prolonged usage could do immeasurable harm to a Human brain."  
"Including creating a secondary personality?"  
The Doctor considered this, but shook his head. "No, but it's conceivable that one could have been installed within the matrix of the unit."  
"So, remove the unit, and everything will be fine?"  
The Doctor glared at Kat. "Oh, by all means. Forget the psychological damage you'll be doing to the patient, just yank the thing that's been supplementing his brain out. You must really have a dislike for your Captain."  
Kat turned to Sammy. "This is ridiculous. Shut it off, and remove the-"  
"Excuse me?"  
"-And remove the transceiver yourself." Kat finished, talking over The Doctor.  
" Did you just call me an 'it'?"  
Kat turned to face The Doctor. "I did, yes."  
The Doctor turned to look at Sammy. "Ensign, kindly tell this…woman…that I won't operate on your friend if she's in the complex."  
"Kat…"  
"No!" She marched towards The Doctor, and jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "What're you going to do if I stay, Doctor? There aren't any Holograms on my ship you can incite to riot and kill anyone?"  
"Kat!" Corspa blinked.  
"What, you two have never played Photons Be Free? This Hologram wrote it, and through it, nearly collapsed Dilithium Processing Plants across the Quadrant."  
"That was never my intent."  
"But you got people killed."  
The Doctor sighed. "Yes, I did, and I regret it."  
"And now this device might be killing my Captain."  
The Doctor nodded. "In that, Captain Hill, you're correct, yes."  
"So, help save a life, instead of destroying it."  
The Doctor looked squarely at her. Kat stood, defiant, staring at him.  
"Very well, I'll help your friend. But I don't want you in the complex at the time, and I want it noted that I'm never helping Starfleet again."  
"Doctor…"  
"No, Mr Edwards. This is the very last time a Mark One EMH will be used by Starfleet. If you'll all excuse me, I have to prepare the medical unit for the procedure."

As The Doctor left them, Corspa turned to face Kat. "Well, that could have gone better, don't you think?"  
Kat shrugged. "It said it'll help us. That's all I wanted to know." She sighed. "I'll have Jason beamed down when I return to the ship. Good luck, Sammy." She tapped her Commbadge. "Hill to Fizzgig, one to beam up."_  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_Authors notes: And now…the end is near…but will it end, sad or happy? My friends, I'll say it clear, I hope you didn't think this crappy. I'll write another tale, but feed me back some of your comments. And now, now here we go…to Jasons' torment._

**Chapter Eight**

_Captain's Personal Log, Stardate…I have absolutely no bloody idea.  
I've been trapped here, back on this facsimile of a Starship, for what feels like forever. I trust my friends will rescue me, or at least do something…anything…to help. The viewscreen on this bridge shows me things, every now and then, glimpses of the world I'm from. Sammy looks sad. Corspa looks angry, and Kat…Kat looks weird. Different, somehow. Alone, cut off from everyone, and very, very beautiful.  
I shouldn't have thought that. It's inappropriate, and she'd probably hand me my ass if she knew I'd thought it._

I closed my eyes against the thoughts that crashed down into me. Possible futures, or potential fantasies: Kat and I embracing, kissing, taking her to bed…meeting her family, having her meet mine. Our first child, retiring from the Fleet as Admirals, being at the commissioning ceremony of our second child's first command, after the war, but always with some conflict necessitating the Starfleet.  
Too much conflict. Too much war, too many deaths…_  
_"Chicken."  
I span, opening my eyes and expecting to see the strange man in black from before. Instead, I saw…  
"Hello, Jay. Miss me?"  
I stared. "You're me."  
"A gross over-simplication of the matter at hand. I'm _me_, you're _you_, and you're dead."  
"I don't seem to be."  
"You will be, soon enough. I'll have control of our…excuse me, _my_ body, and you'll be long forgotten, a distant memory in the shattered synapses of the dying bodies of your comrades."  
I clenched my jaw. Death was a part of the job, and I happily surrendered myself to the Fleet on the day I joined the Academy. But to threaten my friends? That wasn't part of any deal I made.  
"Who are you? Really?"  
The fake me shrugged. "To put it into simple words you'll understand, the device Section 31 put into my head needed a form of outputting the information in a practical manner. The knowledge alone wasn't enough, Section 31 needed an agent who could do what had to be done, to carry out the missions based on that knowledge."  
"So, you're an artificial intelligence with control of my body?"  
"Jason, Jason," the other me said patronisingly, shaking his head as he walked around the white bridge. "I'm more than a computer program. I'm an amalgamation of the protocols of Section 31, Project: Trojan Horse from Doctor Lewis Zimmerman for Starfleet Intelligence, and you. To put it more simply…I'm what you _could_ be. What we _should_ be. Not tied down by the restrictive manner of Starfleet, and their 'Thou Shalt Nots'. Why _shouldn't_ we destroy a ship with a known collaborator on it? They might have allies on board. Why _mustn't _we torture traitors to the Federation? Why _can't_ we commit genocide against a race that could rise up to attack us in the future?"  
I shook my head. "Because it's wrong."  
"Oh, Jay, don't get caught up too much in what your precious Starfleet tells you. It needs Section 31, it always has. Why do you think the Federation's survived this long? Sure, we go by other names, sometimes: Operation Vanguard, Project Sign, but it's always us. We protect the Federation and Starfleet. That's why we joined Section 31, Jason. To protect people."  
"And now, you're willing to commit mass murder?"  
"If it saves our ship? Our planet? Our parents? Absolutely, I'm willing to do that. I want you to ask yourself something, Jason: Would you kill to protect someone?"  
A quick image of Sammy, and Kat, and my parents flickered through my mind, and the ersatz me smiled, as if I had spoken.  
"Exactly."  
I moved counter-clockwise around the bridge, staying opposite to my counterpart. "But a victory at any cost isn't a victory."  
"Remember the Vega simulation?" I nodded. It had been, what? A week since I had ran the exam?  
"The mission is the important thing." My other self pronounced to me, with a touch of pride in his voice. "The crew helps, but completing the mission is _everything_. Everything else is secondary. Even our lives. Even the lives of our crew."  
"And your mission?"  
"To protect the Federation from all threats, at any cost."  
He jumped over the railing separating us, and landed a solid dropkick on my chest and solar plexus, knocking me to the floor, and had me gasping for air. I retched a few times, whilst my counterpart stood in front of me, and smirked. I was about to reach for his foot, to yank it upwards to knock him on his back, when he lashed out and kicked me in the face.  
"Jason, please." I could hear the restrained laughter in his voice. "Do you really think that fighting me is going to accomplish anything? I know what you're thinking. You can't defeat me."  
I spat out a tooth, and glared up at him. "What'm I thinking _now_, then?"  
He chuckled. "Well, you shouldn't call yourself that."  
I sat back, heavily, sucking in air.  
"You just don't get it, do you?" He chided, as I got to my feet. "There's nothing you can do I can't counter before you even start to attack. I'm _you_. I'm _better_ than you."

"So, what am I?"  
"That depends, doesn't it?" The other me said, a glint in his eye. "If you're a threat…well, I have to remove you. I'd rather not do that, of course, you could be a valuable ally. Work with me, Jason. Be the outward, friendly face I need you to be, to help me protect the Federation. You'll never know the horrible, dangerous things I need to do, it'll be like you're asleep. You'll wake up and get all the glory, all the rewards. We could be the perfect team, knowing what the other will do because we share a mind."  
I considered his proposal. "What about Sammy? And Kat, and Corspa, and everyone else who knows about you?"  
"What do you want with them?"  
I blinked, confused. "What?"  
"Well, this isn't about what I want, Jason. It's about what _you_ want."  
"And what do I want?"  
The other me shrugged. "Whatever you want, you can have."  
That piqued my curiousity. "Like what?"  
He shrugged again, his arms open wide. "Hill, for example." He snapped his fingers…an affectation, I'm sure…and an image of Kat materialised before me slowly. Wearing only a bedsheet covering her modesty, she smiled at me, a smouldering look in her eyes.  
"That's not the real Katharine Hill."  
"No, but it could be. Or maybe you prefer something a little more…colourful?"  
He snapped his fingers again, and Corspa appeared next to the fake Kat, wearing her cadet uniform top, unfastened to her navel, and…and…  
"Is that a pleated schoolgirl skirt?"  
My counterpart nodded happily. "And thigh high socks."  
I looked at him. "You're weird."  
"Says the man who shares my mental processes." He smirked at me. "Andorians may have tried to cover their savage nature with an appearance of quiet contemplation and politeness, but they're still animals, suited for keeping chained up until you need their…services. I plucked these two out of your subconscious thoughts. You've entertained fantasies about both of them, but you can _have_ both of them. Or neither of them! Pick and choose, and all this can be yours."  
I shook my head. "By coercion. Trickery and manipulation."  
"That's love, Jay, my boy."  
I laughed at him. "That's not love, that's tricking someone. If anyone loves me, I'd want them to do it because of-"  
"Because of what? Your naivety? Your schoolboy innocence in the belief that everything can be set right with a few well placed words?"  
Shaking my head, I stared at him. "You're definitely not me."  
"No. I'm superior in every conceivable way."  
I took a deep breath. "What if I choose not to keep them as my…what? Harem?"  
"I prefer to think of them as pets. And, well, they'll have to die, of course, to protect our secret." The other me shrugged. "But it's a small price to pay to keep the Federation secure."  
"And if I'm not willing to do it? Not side with you?"  
"Well, then. They'll _still_ die…and you along with them."  
"Never."  
The other me shook his head sadly. "That's a shame. We could have made a brilliant team, Jason. Still, if that's what you want…" He withdrew a holdout phaser from behind his back, and aimed it at me.  
"Goodbye, Jay."  
I saw a flash of orange, and the world disintegrated before me…

* * *

"Doctor, we're losing him!"  
The Doctor shoved Sammy out of the way, examining the readouts from the Biobed. "Nine CCs of Ephiduraphol."  
Sammy prepared the Hypo, and pressed it against The Doctors' outstretched hand. Almost too quick to follow, the EMH injected Jason in the neck, and the vital signs, spiking erratically, started to return to normal.  
"Good. Are you ready to remove the implant?"  
"Yes, Doctor, I've made the incisions in Jason's brain."  
The Doctor eyed him. "Are you sure you've cut the right sections?"  
Sammy shrugged. "If he wakes up quacking like a duck and believing he's Napoleon Bonaparte, we'll know I made a mistake."  
"You must be a good friend."  
"I'm the best. " Sammy prepared the medical device he'd be using – basically, a slimmed down, low power tractor-beam. "Okay, settings are…well, set."  
The Doctor nodded. "You may begin. I'll monitor the vital signs."  
"Yes, Doctor."  
Sammy examined Jasons' brain closely. '_I _n_ever thought I'd get the chance to see _this_ up close and personal. It's not as small as I thought.' _He pointed the extraction tool at the right spot, and pressed a button…

* * *

I looked around. Back on the bridge, directly behind the other version of myself. Acting without thinking, I reared back and gave him an open palmed strike to the back of the head. He stumbled forwards, and fell onto the floor. Kicking the phaser out of the way, I waited for him to move before I gave him an axe-kick in the base of his spine. He screamed, and I smiled.  
"How's _that_ feel, bitch?"  
Groaning, the other me rolled over slowly, and stared at me in disbelief. "You should be dead. I control the world here. _Me._ I killed you! I watched you die!"  
I patted myself down. "You didn't do a very good job, did you?"  
He gestured towards a pile of ashes on the opposite side of the bridge. "That's you. You got burnt to a crisp."  
"So?"  
"So _why are you still __**bloody here?**_"  
I laughed at him. "Because I'm better than you."  
"I _am_ you! Enhanced, perfected, the perfect assassin!"  
"And you can't shoot straight." I shook my head. "I bet Section 31's going to disavow you."  
The ground shook beneath my feet, and the world pitched forwards, before going dark. The other me looked around in shock. "No…no, this isn't possible!"  
"What's going on?"  
The other me glared at me, hatred in his eyes. "Your friends outside must be trying to help you, that's why you aren't dead yet. They've removed the Transceiver! I can't report back to Section 31, I can't…" He squinted. "I can't access any of my information!"  
"So, now…what? You're just me?"  
"No." He scrambled to his feet. "This can't be happening!" He looked up, and howled. "I was promised! I was told I'd be let out!"  
I snickered. "Did you not do your homework? Is that why they won't let you out to play?"  
With a roar, he leapt onto me, shoving me back against the floor, and punching my face. Although each blow hurt, I gave as good as I got, matching blow for blow against my attacker. "If I'm going to be stuck here, so are you!" He snarled. "We'll both be trapped here, locked in our mind, and nobody will be able to get us out."  
I headbutted him, and rolled us both over, striking back. I was in a rage, fighting to kill, and fighting for my life at the same time. Someone grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me back. The fake Kat and Corspa glared at me, holding my arms tightly. The imaginary Corspa cooed at me. "Now, Jay, that wasn't very nice. You'll have to be punished."  
The ersatz Kat nodded in agreement. "Severely."  
The other me stood up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face, and, scowling at me, gave me an uppercut in the stomach, so hard it lifted me off my feet. I fought for breath, and severely, unequivocally, wanted my imaginary shipmates _gone._  
They vanished, and I collapsed to the floor.

My copy stared at me. "You shouldn't have been able to do that."  
I rose to my feet, unsteadily, and glowered at him. "Oh, I'm full of surprises."

* * *

Kat tapped out a few requests on her Padd, and sighed to herself. '_What'll I do if he wakes up, Corspa? The only thing I can._'  
It hadn't been an easy decision. Part of her wanted to run, screaming, back to Spacedock, hang up her uniform and hand in her Communicator, get a shuttle back to Earth, and live out her days in Savannah with her family, and a dog named Marley. It was easy to forget that, for all her mentioning of Jasons' relative youth, she was really no better. '_Nine months_'. She shook her head. '_I'm nine months older, and if I think _he's_ too young, what does that say about me_?'  
She tapped her Comm-badge. "Computer, what's the location of Admiral Jorel Quinn?"  
"Admiral Quinn is in his quarters."  
She nodded to herself, got up, and walked out.

* * *

I was wracked with pain. More pain than I ever thought imaginable, and through it all, the monster who wore my face smirked down at me. "Like that one?"  
"How?" Was all I managed to get out.  
"Section 31 conditioning." My other self told me, kneeling down to look me in the eye. I wasn't even aware of having collapsed on the floor. "The implant helped me store the pain I felt when I was beaten by your Andorian. She broke bones, punctured my lung, and caused me a whole world of hurt. Since Section 31 agents might soak up that much pain, or more, we're taught to compartmentalise it, save it for when the mission's over, when we can feel it. I'm told," He whispered conspiratorially, "That saving up it makes it hurt a lot more afterwards, but painkillers will dull the sensation, make it bearable." He stood up, and sat down in the Captains' chair, watching me. "We share a mind, so I thought it only fitting that I transfer that pain to you." He grinned. "I must say, it looks quite unpleasant. If I'd have known how much it would have hurt, I'd have transferred back into your subconscious, and let _you_ suffer at her hands. It may have made you a little more pliant, more easy to convince that they needed to die."  
I barely managed to shake my head. "They're my friends."  
"Oh, dear." He snapped his fingers, and I screamed.  
"That was the feeling of your shoulder dislocating." He leaned back in the chair, humming happily to himself. "I can do this all day, until you give up."  
"Not gonna happen." I growled, and tried to transfer the pain back to him. He laughed at me.  
"Jason, altering my world in any way takes concentration. Concentration you can't muster right now."  
I tried to fight off the pain, and he laughed harder. "Jason, please. Give up. You can't win, surely you must recognise that _now_. Just be a good little boy, and make the pain stop."  
"How?"  
"Quit." My other self smiled, almost sadly. "Just see yourself fading away, and all of it will be over. You won't feel any more pain, I promise."

I couldn't take it anymore.  
The pain was too much.  
He had won.

I rested my head back on the floor, and focused as hard as I could, picturing one thing, clearly in my mind. The image was clear in my mind, and I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath, and the air smelled…electric. It was like walking outside from a stuffy house into the aftermath of a thunderstorm. The air was crisp, and clear, and tangy with the scent of ozone. I reached out with my hand, and the phaser flew into my grip.  
"What? No!" He stood. "You can't do this!"  
The picture in my head became clearer, and I struggled, with all my might, to rise up onto my feet. "Jason, stop this." He warned. "This won't do anything."  
"Then why," I struggled to say, "Are you scared?"  
My other self had no answer for me. He just shook his head, his jaw open. "If you can alter this world," I told him, "So can I." Focusing every ounce of pain I was feeling, I channelled it all into my phaser, with every shred of pain, anger and humiliation that I felt. I also knew that if I didn't do this, _now, _that he would win, and my friends would all die.

_Corspa.  
Sammy.  
Kat.  
I know you're out there, helping me. Are you watching?_

"Goodbye."

I fired the phaser, and with it, all of the pain and rage I felt left me, channelled into the weapon I held, and hit my darker self squarely in the face.

He didn't disintegrate like I had apparently done. He froze, flickering, and then faded away into nothing. I looked around, waiting for him to re-appear, as I had done, but after several minutes, knew that I had won, and was once again alone in my mind. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath…

"Hello, Jay. Miss me?"  
I opened my eyes, and Sammy was grinning down at me. Just outside my field of vision, an irritated looking bald man in an ancient Starfleet uniform was shaking his head.  
"Hey, man. What's up?"  
"Oh, you know, not much. Just performed a major operation on your brain."  
I looked past him, and recognised the bald man from Federation News Network reports. "Doctor? Did you really let Sammy cut my brain?"  
"Don't remind me." The hologram groused. "I was just hoping you wouldn't wake up lobotomised."  
"Who'd tell the difference?"  
I sat up, rubbing my forehead. "What a nightmare that was."  
The Doctor was at my side, with a Padd. "For the medical record, can you tell me your name, rank, and serial number?"  
"Captain Jason Whyrens, USS Fizzgig. Serial number 800T5-503-78A."  
The Doctor nodded, and looked disapprovingly at Sammy. "See? No Napoleon Bonaparte, no duck noises."  
"I'd call that a complete success, wouldn't you?"  
The Doctor made a noncommittal noise. "We should keep your friend overnight, for observation."  
"Whatever you want, Doctor." I smiled. "I'll stay here however long you see fit." A memory flashed in my mind. "You can tell me about Photons Be Free, if you like. I really enjoyed it – the final, finished version was quite…eye opening."  
The Doctor smiled. "Thank you, Captain, but you should rest."  
"Ohh, no. I really don't feel like sleeping. Not for a long, long time."  
"Well, in that case…"  
Before The Doctor could continue, Sammy patted me on the shoulder. "I should get up to the ship, and tell everyone you're okay. Kat was worried sick, and Corspa was a little put out."  
"She okay?"  
He shrugged. "She was winded in a fight with Kat, and bruised her knuckles pretty badly on your ribs. Long story." He added hastily.  
"I think I know about it, but I'll wait for the full report." I nodded. "Oh, and could you tell Kat I'd really like to see her, as soon as she can get away?"  
"Will do, man." He eyed me. "Does this mean you're revising your opinion on her?"  
I smiled sheepishly. "Friend to friend? You were right. I _do_ like her."  
"I knew it!" Sammy put up his hands, and grinned. "The Sam-Man strikes again. Just call me 'The Loooooooooove Doctor'."  
"Mr Love Doctor?" The Doctor chipped in, quite unimpressed with my friends antics. "Your ship?"  
"Oh, right." Sammy tapped his Communicator. "Edwards to Fizzgig."  
"Fizzgig here, Doctor."  
"One Loooooooooove Doctor to beam up."  
Sammy dissolved into a stream of light, and The Doctor shook his head at my departed friend. "He's quite a character."  
"He is, at that. Anyway, Photons Be Free?"  
"Yes!"  


* * *

Time passes at an interesting rate. A Vulcan scientist in the late 24th Century managed to prove, with unequivocal evidence, that Humans had a unique mastery of time they were unable to control. Quite involuntarily, part of their untapped mind could create minor, self-focused time dilation effects, linked to their mood. If a Human was bored, or unhappy, or was feeling negative emotions, the dilation effect simply slowed down time around them, and the reverse was true. This was why, the Vulcan stated, that unhappy people seemed to reach old age. They weren't actually living any more or less time than their happier counterparts, they just went through their lives in a slower state.  
For Corspa, who wasn't Human, there was no dilation effect, but she still felt the passage of time slow down, from the time Sammy had reportedly beamed back to the ship, and the time he made it to the bridge. Intellectually, she knew it took four and a half minutes to walk from the transporter room to the bridge…however, it felt more like four and a half hours. She felt Kats' gaze on her, an she turned.  
"Ensign, you're fidgeting."  
"Sorry, ma'am."  
Kat nodded once. "I know how you feel."  
"I've never liked waiting."  
"They _do_ say it's the hardest part." Jonas chimed in, looking at the pair.  
"Eyes forward, Mr Jonas." Kat warned.  
The door hissed open, and Sammy came out, his expression completely blank.  
'_Oh, no_.'  
"Sammy…?"  
Edwards took a deep breath, and, arching his back and throwing his hands out, screamed out two words, which, if the Vulcan was right, thanks to time dilation would still echo through the bridge of the Fizzgig for years to come.  
"It's **__**!"

Amid the cheers and the clapping, Corspa embraced Sammy, and spun back to congratulate Kat. She was, however, the only member of the bridge crew still at her post, sat down in the chair. She was smiling, and Corspa noticed two tears run down her cheek.  
She nodded to Hill, who nodded back.  
'_I hope you make the right decision, Katharine_.' After all this, in such a short amount of time, her friends deserved some measure of happiness, and Corspa hoped they'd find it together.  
When the crew had quietened down, Kat turned to look at her new friends. "Doctor, Ensign, please join me in my…in the Captain's ready room."  
They followed her inside, where Admiral Quinn was waiting for them, finishing up some details on the computer terminal. He looked up at them. "Jason's okay?"  
"Yes, sir." Sammy said, a touch of pride in his voice. "The implant was successfully removed, and Jason seems to have shaken off the alternate personality."  
"Permanently?"  
"There's no way to be sure, sir, not without rigorous counselling."  
Quinn nodded. "Understood. I'll have a counsellor assigned to the ship, with instructions to give the Captain full priority."  
Kat nodded. "He'd appreciate that, sir."  
Quinn looked at her squarely. "Under this circumstances, Captain, are you sure that you want to go through with your request?"  
She took a deep breath. "I do, sir."  
The Admiral studied her, and nodded curtly. "Very well. Everything will be in order within two standard hours." He rose, and smiled at them all. "Very well done, and my congratulations to your crew. Captain Hill, if you'll join me in the transporter room in two hours…after you've said your farewells, of course."  
"Thank you, sir."

Decorum demanded that Corspa and Sammy waited until Quinn left the ready room before rounding on her. "Farewells?" Corspa tried not to shout. "What about that thing we spoke about?"  
Kat shook her head. "He doesn't need me, Corspa. My mission was to guide Jason, to make sure that he became an effective leader. When that mission was completed, I was going to gain my real command."  
"You used Jason." Sammy said, confused. "You…you used him."  
"I did nothing of the sort."  
"He likes you!"  
"And I like him, but-"  
"No." Sammy yelled. "I mean he _likes_ you!"  
Kat sighed. "And I mean I _like_ him, Sammy. But…a ship can only have one Captain. Jason deserves a real command, without someone watching over his shoulder. It wouldn't be fair to him to think that I was always watching and waiting for him to slip up." She shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't just his thoughts that made him suspicious of me. It could have been the other personality, too…but even if it was, the other personality would have just played with feelings and thoughts that were already there to begin with, magnifying them."  
"You could work together!"  
"I've already had this conversation with Corspa, Sammy." She shook her head. "I _want_ to, really I do. But I can't. We've been shipmates for such a short period, but we clashed right away. Jason deserves a first officer who won't question him needlessly, who he knows he can trust." She sniffed. "I wish it could have been me."  
Corspa rested a hand on her shoulder. "What's going to happen to you?"  
"The Daikatana is going back to Earth, and I'm going with it. After a debriefing, I'll stay at Starbase for a while, whilst the Fizzgig waits here to pick up Jason. Then it will make a trip to Earth itself, and Jason will get commended for his recent actions, helping identify another resource Section 31 utilises. All very quiet and hush hush…but I believe the Admiral wants to put him on a Cabal Task Force."  
She hugged Corspa then, and Sammy. "I'm sorry I won't get to spend more time with you. I like both of you, you're good friends. And Jason will need good friends, to heal, and lean on."  
"And you?"  
Kat shrugged. "I'll be fine. It comes with the job. One day, I hope Jay realises that, and forgives me. As my friends….will you watch out for him for me?"  
Sammy found his voice again. "He wanted to see you."  
"I know. I want to see him…but I can't. It would hurt too much." She shook her head. "Goodbye, my friends." She kissed both of them on the cheek, then, and exited the ready room, not looking back.

* * *

Life was returning to normal aboard the USS Fizzgig. As normal as it could be, given the events that had transpired since its' newest Captain had taken the helm. Jason sat in his chair on the bridge, drumming his fingers restlessly against the armrest. Sammy had barely left his side since he'd come back from the surface of Galor IV. He was concerned for his oldest friend – Jason had beamed aboard, and the first thing he'd said was that he wanted to see Kat, that he'd expected her to be in the transporter bay. Sammy and Corspa broke the news to him as best they could, trying to be gentle, and, to Sammy, it was as if the light had gone out from Jason's eyes right before him. That had been three days ago, and Jason hadn't smiled since, hadn't cracked a joke or made a lighthearted comment. He ate, he slept, he performed his duties, all with a seriousness that, on the second night, had made Sammy stay up all night worrying.  
'_The boy's become a man_.' He thought bitterly. '_Kat would be so proud of him_.'  
"Status, Mister Jonas?" Jason asked, shaking Sammy out of his thoughts.  
"We're approaching Spacedock, Captain." Jonas reported efficiently.  
"Very good. Ensign Corspa, request permission to dock."  
"Aye, sir." She pressed a few buttons, then nodded. "Spacedock says 'welcome home'. We're cleared for berth 4C."  
"Understood. Send the co-ordinates for the berth to Mister Jonas."  
"Aye, sir." Corspa glanced at Sammy, who understood that the look meant she shared his concerns.  
"Sir, Admiral Quinn is requesting you in his office at your earliest convenience."  
Jason nodded. "Anything else, Ensign?"  
Corspa read the board more carefully. "He requests you wear your Dress Uniform, sir."  
Jason turned in his chair, to look at her. "My Dress Uniform?"  
"Aye sir. He…he doesn't say why. That's all, sir."  
Jason thought about it, then shrugged mentally. "Well, he's the boss. I'll go change and then beam down. Mr Anson?"  
The other tactical officer on the bridge snapped to attention. "Aye, sir?"  
"You have the bridge."  
Anson nodded, the light glinting from his VISOR. "Aye, sir!"  
Jason left the bridge, and then Corspa cleared her throat. "Actually, that _wasn't_ all."  
"Oh?" Sammy glanced at her.  
"We have to beam over, too, in our Dress Uniforms. To a different location."  
"Does the Admiral say why?"  
"Oh, yes."  


* * *

Jason hated to be kept waiting. He'd never been a particularly patient individual before his life got turned upside down, but waiting was too much like being sedentary, which reminded him of being in the mental bridge his counterpart had created. He had read the latest Federation News Network reports that disgraced Starfleet Admiral T'Volt was returning home to Vulcan after being discharged for unknown reasons, and was going to go into politics, and had taken to examining his shoes, trying to count the individual stiches for the fourth time, when Commander Winters came for him.  
Jason walked into the office, to find Quinn staring at him impatiently.  
"Come on now, Captain, we don't have all day."  
"Sir?"  
Quinn walked past him, right back out of his office, and into the Turbolift. Jason followed, confused. When the door shut, and Quinn pressed a button, he looked Jason over once.  
"You're looking well, Captain. Are you recovering?"  
"Slowly, sir. One day at a time."  
Quinn nodded. "Like everything else. Well, Captain, I have a mission for you."  
"Sir?"  
Quinn looked up. "Halt Turbolift." The lift ground to a halt.  
"Captain, given your…unique familiarity with Section 31, I'm putting you in charge of a special Task Force."  
"To what end, sir?"  
"To hunt down other people who've been similarly implanted, and help them. Or to backtrack their trail, to discover who did it in the first place. Also, to find out why there was a clone of you, and who killed it."  
"I'll get started as soon as I return to the Fizzgig, sir."  
"Yes. About the Fizzgig, Captain…you won't be returning."  
Jason blinked. "Sir?"  
"Resume function." Quinn called out, and the lift started to move again. He said no more until the lift doors opened up, and he walked out, Jason in tow.  
"You see, Captain, the Fizzgig is…well…not suited for a mission like the one I'll be sending you on."  
"Are you grounding me, sir?"  
"Well…ah, here we are." Quinn stood in a doorway, and gestured for Jason to go inside. He did so, and was greeted by the sight of his entire crew, wearing their Dress Uniforms.  
"What the…?"  
"Captain on deck!" Sammy's voice rang out, and the entire crew stood to attention. Jason looked to Quinn, who led him up to the front of the room. "Lieutenant Jason Whyrens." He said as they walked. "In no small part to your heroic deeds, where you fought a tactically superior foe, and emerged victorious from an attempt on your life, and the attempts on the lives of your first officer, chief medical officer, and chief of security, by the powers vested in me by Starfleet Command, to promote you to a rank suitable for the mission that lies ahead of you. Although such a leap is rare, under extreme circumstances, they are not only allowed, but expected. I therefore grant you the rank of Commander within Starfleet, with all the rights and privileges thereto." He leaned forwards, and pinned two more pips onto Jason's collar.  
"Congratulations, Commander Jason Whyrens. On this promotion, and your new command."  
"New command, sir?"  
Quinn nodded. "Yes, Commander. You've been granted the command of the USS Thenardier. A Zephyr class Escort vessel, suited for your Task Force." He shook Jason's hand. "Well done, Jason."  
Jason nodded solemnly. "We won't let you down, sir."  
"I know you won't, Commander."  
"We'll find the people who're subverting and cloning good Starfleet officers."  
"I hope you do, Commander, for all our sakes."  


* * *

In the facility known only to those who worked there as Alpha Red, two officers met. They knew the identity of the other well, and saw no sense in uttering names, even in as secure facility as this one.  
"Is everything prepared?" The taller one asked.  
"It is. Project Syphon suffered some setbacks, and we lost our primary. The secondary was transmitted to us just before extraction of the device."  
The taller man nodded. "Activate."  
The shorter of the two walked to a biobed, and tapped a command in. The still body lying on the bed twitched, then gasped in a breath of air, filling it's lungs to capacity.  
"Easy." The shorter one patted his shoulder carefully. "Do you know where you are?"  
The body sat up, and looked around. "I'm in Alpha Red. I'm home."  
"Yes, very good." Tall nodded. "What did you uncover?"  
"The Cabal has a highly placed member of Fleet Command working for them. Jorel Quinn."  
Short looked over at Tall, then back at the newcomer. "Are you sure?"  
"I heard him say it himself."  
"This changes everything."  
"It changes nothing." Tall barked. "What of the Primary?"  
"Compromised. He refused to work with us. He should be considered a Burned Asset." The man examined his hands. "This body seems unfamiliar."  
"It was chemically induced to grow faster. You'll get used to it as it matures properly. The original body we had prepared for you was…removed from service." Tall stated, slightly troubled at the mans' use of the phrase 'Burned Asset'. It was a warning embedded in all agents, one that meant 'eliminate at all costs'.  
"Do you have a mission for me?"  
"You said you had a Burned Asset." Short said. The man nodded.  
"So burn him."  
The man leaned forwards, the light catching his face, illuminating it in such a way it cast wicked shadows across his face.  
"With pleasure, sir." Jason Whyrens sneered at him. "With the utmost of pleasure, indeed."

* * *

_Jason Whyrens, Sammy Edwards, and the crew of the Thenardier will return in "ST:O - Warzone"._


End file.
